


The Science of Weirdness

by TheBardWhoLives



Series: Memories & Dreams [6]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Backupsmore University (Gravity Falls), College, Gen, Prequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 41,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25372411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBardWhoLives/pseuds/TheBardWhoLives
Summary: West Coast Tech has all but been stolen from his future, and with what limited money his parents give him he has no choice but to pursue education elsewhere. But perhaps there is something more at work guiding Stanford's life. Weird coincidences that he can't just chalk up to simple chance. With the first friend after a harsh betrayal, he might find out what his future has in store.
Series: Memories & Dreams [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936957
Kudos: 8





	1. Foundation

Backupsmore University, an ideal name for an unideal place. How did it come to this? Well he knew exactly how, but he didn’t like it. He was meant for greater learning, not just simple learning. ‘Turning science fiction into science fact’. That was what his principal had said awaited him at West Coast Tech. Before… He let that anger seethe under the surface, no need to fan the flames that burned him already. How bad could it be? He had to make the best of a bad situation. Besides the dean of students had made the best offer he could of ‘Mostly bed bug free dorms’. Mostly, that had to be a joke right? He made a note to stop by the store and pick up some bug spray later.

“Watch it!” Some jerk with a varsity jacket and an arm in a sling took him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry.” Ford said as he instinctively hid his hand in his pocket, the other was pulling along a travel suitcase; one of the better gifts he got for his birthday; it had been so alien this time around with that large person shaped gap at the table. He watched the bigger guy glare after him. Another person whose dreams had been shattered? He knew more than a fair share had similar stories. He wasn’t special here, wasn’t unique. He’d need to excel in different ways. He found his dorm and went to open the door only for it to move a quarter of an inch and then smack into something. That did not seem fortuitous if he was already stuck outside of his room. He heard scrambling and then the door next to his opened up. Out came a frazzled looking youth with thick glasses hanging down his big nose.

“Sorry partner, I hope you don’t mind me capitalizing a bit of your livin’ quarters.” The twangy drawl of, well he wasn’t quite sure where, it sounded like that one ventriloquist dummy that he had seen on TV as a kid, the one that St-… He tamped down the anger again.

“I guess it is… wait how did you get in my room? These are supposed to be single room dorms.” Ford asked as he walked around and poked his head in the yokel’s door. His eyes went wide behind his frames as he saw the wall between rooms had been mostly demolished, and as he looked at the young man next to him he saw drywall dust clinging to him like powdered sugar on a funnel cake.

“I needed a bit more room to work on my project, it is a revolutionary idear, going to be in everything from idiot boxes to refrigerators.” The young man said cheerfully. He offered a dusty hand to Ford who involuntarily took it. It took only two shakes before the man exclaimed in shock. Ford then looked down at his hand and realized the man was doing the same.

“Sorry, I should try to find another room…” Ford turned to wheel his suitcase out of the building.

“No no, I did not expect it. You are pretty special. Well my cousin Jimmy Jim Junior Senior, he has an extra toe. But never seen fingers like that. Postaxial polydactyly of both hands. Wowzers.” The young man beamed brightly, seemingly quite bright despite his manner of speaking.

“Yeah, I had it since I was… born. I mean, yeah.” Ford felt like an idiot, he didn’t do well in social situations. Especially on his own, he was used to having a backup with excessive personality. “Stanford Filbrick Pines, and your name is?”

“Oh Fiddleford Hadron McGucket. At your service Stanley.” McGucket suddenly flinched and Ford realized he must have had a very sour look on his face. “Stanford it is.” He recovered quickly and then motioned for him to follow him inside. “What you are looking at here is the beginning of the future. It might look like a dining room table, which part of it is, but once I get in them there hills and do some panning for gold for my wiring, I will be able to unveil to the world… the macrochip!”

“The what?” Ford found himself asking, he was not sure what he was even looking at.

“The macrochip. It will enable devices to process information at blazing speed. I am talking about doing calculations on its own in the blink of a sloth’s eye, or three to seven hours. If I can get it to work. No longer will we need massive rooms for computing equipment. Also you can cook grits on the heatsink.” McGucket was over the moon with excitement.

“That seems… impractical?” Ford surmised.

“Oh bullhonky, mind my language.” McGucket corrected. “Everyone will want one, and if I can get funding I will be able to shrink it down, maybe even to the size of an end table.” He spoke like a true dreamer. Ford did not know why but he was smiling. ‘I found my people’, he realized.

So maybe it wasn’t as glamorous as he thought but he could find a place here, and the room felt a lot more open with that wall missing. Almost like he was back home again in his room with… In his room again. “I’ve got a good feeling about this.” Ford said happily before a hole opened up in his ceiling and a bed fell down on top of his own. A muscled kid with a set of weights still held up looked around confused.

“Uhh… what are you dorks looking at.” He then continued his reps. Ford still clung to that previous optimism and would work at getting moved in, once the jock left that is. He knew that this was the foundation of something great.


	2. Hypothesis

Time for the first class, he had gotten everything moved in (and the hole in the ceiling repaired), so he was now looking forward to his first day of classes. Some basic subject; well they were all basic to him as he had been working on college level information since he was in 8th grade, but he was excited for what information he could learn in their scientific and mathematic academia. He found he was going to be sharing lab time with McGucket later in the day, with whom he had already forged a pretty strong bond. How probable was it that two scientifically minded individuals who both had been contenders for West Coast Tech would be unable to live that dream and ended up going to the same university? That was actually a good question and one he would chew on later, but the time was at hand. His professor was supposedly quite esteemed in his field of Chaos Theory; one Doctor Malcom.

“So… let me get started by informing you that I will not learn your names, your faces, or any identifying marks about you. When I point in a direction and say ‘You’, I am not referring to anyone except the first person to answer. We got that?” He said with a flippant attitude that seemed to earn only a smattering of applause from the more cynical and sycophantic. “Now, my lessons will be very quick and difficult. Most of you I know will fail. Some of you might pass, but do not feel any pride in that. No one gets high marks in my class. I will eat my shoe, without any sauce, if one of you makes even a B. C’s get degrees people. In this room, my word is law.” The professor then turned to start writing out in incredibly small print on the blackboard.

“Excuse me, sir.” Ford spoke up and he heard the snap of the chalk as the professor wheeled around to glare at him.

“I don’t think I asked for any input from anyone. So sit down and shut up. Unless there is a fire I won’t have any talking.” The professor turned back.

“I have an issue with your syllabus.” Ford shot back, not sure why this guy was being such a hard headed fool.

“No, you don’t understand my syllabus, because it is clearly too advanced for you. So sit down and shut up.” He scoffed indignantly.

“No, I understand it completely. However you have stated out of date and proven wrong information. I would understand if you are reusing old ones, but this looks freshly made. So I have to believe you are either a woeful defender of false information or simply ignorant.” Ford surmised but he saw the man getting flustered and angry. He had seen anger only one time before that was as close to what this man was feeling. His father on the night he lost his chance for a bright future. Not lost, no it was taken from him. What had been fairly his had been stolen and here he was facing an idiot who believed himself irrefutable.

“Okay smartass, you think you are so sharp. Where are you from? Some middle of nowhere?” The professor was losing his mind over the disrespect.

“New Jersey.” Ford replied stiffly.

“Oh, an east coast punk eh? Only two things come out of there; lousy music and con men. I guarantee you will be running some pig sty looking weirdo hut before you hit forty! So take your smugness and your self-righteous attitude, and get the hell out of my lecture hall!” He slammed his hand on the desk.

“I won’t give you that satisfaction.” Ford said flatly before he felt something inside of him snap and he was shocked as he heard his brother’s voice coming out of his mouth. “Because the next time I see ya, I’ll sock you so hard in the face your eyes will switch places!” The Jersey accent became incredibly thick. He didn’t know what came over him and he stormed out.

The class stared on in, not disbelief, but a little less malaise than had been there before. He thought how if it had been Stanley that he’d end up with all of them following him out of class. But as it was, he left alone. He went to the student affairs office and found another class to replace the one he was dropping. He’d show that fool that he was not just another kid from Jersey. The name Stanford Pines would be synonymous with forward thinking and scientific achievement, not with any hokey con artist. He met up with Fiddleford later to discuss his exciting morning.

“In front of the whole dang class? Strip the rings of a raccoon’s tail, Stanford.” McGucket laughed brightly.

“I don’t know what that could possibly mean.” Ford confessed.

“Oh, like plucking the nose hairs on a goat.” McGucket saw the confusion still evident. “Floss the oats from a horse’s mouth. Unkink the pig’s tail.” He finally gave up. “You city folk don’t know nothing about no how.”

“Where do these sayings even come from, they sound completely made up.” Ford laughed and took a swig of some cola.

“All words are made up, Stanford. Someone had to decide what means what.” McGucket said sagely before they both broke down into fits of laughter. It had been a rough start, but he was certain now that for some weird reason he was right where he needed to be. Weird… He looked at his extra fingers and wondered how weird things came to be. A hypothesis for another day, he was going to need to focus himself if he wanted to exceed all expectations in school, he already had heard word of how he had challenged a professor but it was painting him as a know-it-all, which was completely untrue. He only knew a lot, he wasn’t completely knowledgeable… yet.


	3. Experimentation

Week one went by in a flash, and he found himself spending his weekend up in the hills with Fiddleford, panning for gold. He had been more or less forced to leave the dorm as they were spraying for bed bugs and McGucket’s macrochip and its heatsink had caused enough of a temperature to ignite the wall. So there was some minor construction. They had managed to convince the foreman that their double dorm room had been that way from the start and not to add in the wall. Thankfully it was not load bearing. So after loading up the back of McGucket’s old jalopy pickup, they set off. Ford was in awe of the trees that were just outside of town. New Jersey had nothing like this, and soon they were passing great redwoods that towered the skyline. McGucket fixed Ford’s awe with a grin and nudged him.  
“Keep your mouth open like that much longer and you’ll be fixing to eat some flies.” The country twang seemed to grow stronger the farther from civilization they went.  
“I grew up on the beach, and I was preoccupied with some stuff on my way over here.” Ford admitted and looked at his hands.  
“Yeah it seems you still are. Do ya mind mine asking of what sort of hootenanny went down?” McGucket glanced over at him. The young man was showing signs of stubble, it seemed like a daily ritual for him to shave; otherwise he’d have five o’clock shadow by two.  
“Just family problems. I don’t like talking about it really.” Ford shifted uncomfortable on the upturned milk crate that served as his seat.  
“Well no one likes to talk about it, don’t mean it ain’t good to let it off your chest now and again. Besides, you know I got my share of problems. My maw and pa still ain’t happy with me leaving to go to school.” McGucket huffed. Ford knew that his family had a mechanic shop and pick-a-part business, and how he had left without much notice to focus on his desire to make electronics instead of putting rust buckets back together.  
“I just… had this idea of what my life was going to be… well two ideas. But the first one was just a back-up plan. Until someone believed it was the only plan.” Ford looked out the window to watch the trees lazily drift by as they went uphill.  
“I see… well if it helps you feel any better… I am sure glad I got to meet ya Stanford. Not many folks like to spend time with someone who smells like ethanol and copper.” McGucket said sincerely which brought a smile to Ford’s face.  
“It helps a little. Thank you Fiddleford.” Ford replied gently. Their sweet moment of true friendship was cut short as the truck’s engine let out a ghastly belch of smoke through the dashboard.  
“Awh shitfire! I knew that gasket was gonna bug out on me!” McGucket cranked the wheel to the side so that as the truck rolled backwards it went off to the side of the road to stop instead of all of the way downhill. Ford got out and helped hold the truck from slipping as McGucket put the chocks under the wheels to keep it from going back any farther. McGucket popped the hood and started to climb inside to fix the problem while occasionally calling for tools and parts to Ford to grab out of the back of the truck.  
A couple hours later they were both covered in filth and rolling up to the stream that McGucket had gotten tips on a place to get some of the rare metal. “Before we get rambunctious, let’s set up camp and get washed up. I got cuts on all six fingers on both hands.” Ford winced as he pulled out the tent setup. McGucket was in agreement and they made their camp for the night. Ford felt a little weird being out in the wild getting scrubbed up in the deeper part of the stream. He had engine grease everywhere, even in places he wasn’t sure how it got there. But he was just soaking in the atmosphere as he sat in the running water when he heard a cry of excitement. He looked over to see McGucket running up with dirt on his arms and hands, and in them some mushrooms.  
“Psilocybe cyanescens!” He plopped down on the bank of the water and grinned. “It ain’t gold but I had heard that they were common here too.”  
“I am unfamiliar with fungi, what is special about them?” Ford asked, curious what got the young man so excited.  
“Oh these things are absolutely a riot, me and my second cousin Jimmy Ray had some one time and it was a real fun weekend.” McGucket sighed wistfully.  
“Wait… are they hallucinogenic?” Ford suddenly felt a pit of concern in his stomach. He had not really thought of doing any type of exploring with such substances. He had snuck some sips of his father’s bottle of scotch with Stanley… ‘Come on Sixer, he won’t even notice’. That had not been too fun afterwards when their dad had found out and made them each take a long drink. He had nearly thrown up and felt awful for a while after.  
“It is okay Stanford, I won’t make you. I just thought it might be a fun time. Only if you want to.” McGucket’s voice was clearly warm and he knew he wasn’t trying to guilt him into it.  
“What the hell, why not.” Ford said, he was an adult and he was wanting to make his own choices. What harm could come from one experiment? So after eating a full meal of beans and franks while the mushrooms were prepared, they each took one and waited. Ford was about to ask McGucket how long it took to take effect when he saw the trees begin to breathe. That was new.


	4. Observing

The world was so vivid and alive, he knew that already but it was only cursory. This was a whole new experience. He laid back on the ground and stared up at the stars. They felt so close despite his knowledge that they were millions of billions of miles away. He reached up and he saw his hand. In the light of the fire it was almost golden. He liked that image. He rolled over and looked at McGucket who just seemed at peace with everything. The pair felt like they were having a conversation just through looks and expressions. Was this telepathy? He could not be certain. He rolled back onto his back and blinked slowly, his chest rose and fell gently. Was the ground beneath him breathing as well? He focused on it and tried to see if it was matching his breath or if it was off slightly. He could not tell. He watched the leaves of the trees wave at him, from the breeze, but perhaps they could sense his presence and was greeting him as well. He closed his eyes and the rustle of the leaves blending together and he heard a faint bird cry. He could almost trick himself into thinking he was back on the beach as a kid, feet moving back and forth on the swing. He extended his hand out and someone took it. He felt his breath hitch in his chest at the warmth and strength in those fingers.

“I miss you Stanley…” Ford whispered and wanted to turn his head as he felt those fingers tighten slightly.

“Stanford?” McGucket’s voice called out to him and he opened his eyes. He looked over and saw the young man sitting there cross-legged holding his hand. “You feeling okay?” That concern, the warm affection. He had found someone whom he could call a brother.

“Yeah, just enjoying things. You?” Ford responded slowly but still did not retract his fingers as McGucket traced his finger along the six fingered shape of his hand.

“Of course, just keeping an eye out on my travel companion. You got quite the open mind for this, I was worried it might take you off somewhere.” McGucket confided and Ford nodded.

“Thank you my friend… though I feel some kind of pulling in my stomach… Not like I have to go to the bathroom. But like a magnet. We should go North.” Ford sat up, feeling energetic.

“North?” McGucket asked and shrugged. “Let’s get going then!” He was either feeling it too, or just wanted to tag along. They got some flashlights and went out into the dark woods, heading higher up the hills. They traveled for maybe a mile when suddenly they found a cave to the east. Ford still felt that draw to the North but they decided to go inside and explore when McGucket stubbed his foot on a stalagmite, his flashlight bounced and landed against the stone wall, aimed upward. To their shock they were able to see some yellowish reflection running in veins through the rock of the ceiling. Fiddleford started to hoot and holler in excitement, pulling Ford into a dance as they believed they struck gold. After knocking some loose, it was sadly only pyrite. Still it was quite the adventure and the two of them had a grand time.

Ford felt the last tinges of the high of exploration and the mushrooms as he sat on a rock observing the rising sun over the valley. He did not feel it as strongly but that sensation of wanting to go North still remained. He chalked it up to the mushrooms and joined McGucket in the water to pan for any gold fragments.


	5. Communicate

The panning expedition was a roaring moderate success. It was not a life changing amount of gold and it was not nearly pure enough to be sold for any great profit but the pair had enough to make thin wire and contacts for McGucket’s project. Ford never thought to ask where exactly Fiddleford got the blow torch and crucible to melt down the gold they found. He figured it was either handmade or ‘borrowed’. He saw a bit of his brother in the technician. A brilliant mind but not afraid to get elbow deep in mess for what he wanted. They took some time the next weekend to paint their dorm, though the windows had been left closed absentmindedly. They found themselves a bit woozy as they sat down and enjoyed some grits that McGucket made. Ford was growing an appreciation for the arrangement of not having to cook for himself. He had attempted to cook some breakfast one morning only to create a substance that defied all manner of rational thought. He had been unable to salvage the cast iron skillet that was one of McGucket’s prized possessions, and that was still a markedly sore spot for their friendship. Ford set down the bowl onto their cluttered table.

“I am still trying to figure out what I am forgetting. I don’t have any idea what it could be. I am completed with all of my assignments, and experiments. I am even getting started on the assignments due next month. I tried to sign up for more classes, but they are cutting me off. Eighteen hours is the hard limit? I mean honestly that is nothing.” Ford sighed and leaned back in the creaky wooden chair.

“Well what else could ya be doin’? I appreciates you helpin’ with my project. It is certainly taking a load off of me.” McGucket grinned and poked Ford’s arm with a paint covered finger. “Have you thought about trying to get a personal life?” He teased which caused Ford to get flustered. He knew McGucket was getting sweet on a girl who worked nights at the gas station off campus but he never gave that much thought for himself. He was too focused on his schooling.

“You are starting to sound like my mother.” Ford muttered before he jumped up in an anxiety riddled state. “My mother!” He had never given her a call since he had made it over here. He was surprised that she hadn’t come over to yank him by the ear and tell him off for forgetting to call. “Fiddleford, where’s the phone?” He asked and started to dig through the pockets of pants he had piled up for laundry later for change to use a payphone. He got the information and hurried out to the phone booth and started to feed in coins until he could make a call. It rang several times, he was thankful it wasn’t busy as he wondered if she might have been working, before it clicked and he heard a familiar voice.

“I knew you were about to call, the spirits guided my hand to the phone. But they require some tithing to give you the information you seek. We accept credit cards or checks.” His mother’s dusky voice with her thick Jersey accent hit his ear and made him feel a pang of homesickness.

“It’s me, Ma.” Ford said softly and smiled.

“STANLEY!?” She was suddenly estatic which only caused that homesickness turn sour and acidic.

“No… Stanford. I wanted to apologize for being late.” Ford did his best to hide how upset he was but it must have bled through.

“I am sorry baby, it was garbled, I just though… I am really happy to hear from you. How’s school going? You meet any nice people?” He could just picture her sitting in her window nook by the windows. He didn’t hear the rustle of newspaper, meaning his father was probably out with the guys at the lodge. It just dawned on him that it was closer to evening there instead of midafternoon for him. It also explained why she had been so comfortable saying his brother’s name; dad wouldn’t be there to make his comments.

“Oh it is different… but yeah I made friends with my roommate. He’s a really good guy.” Ford felt a distance between them that extended beyond mere physical location. But he was doing his best to be warm and loving in spite of that emotional distance he felt. He told her of his time at the college; leaving out less than ideal details like the fire and being dismissed from the one class. He also left out the mushroom trip, though he did talk about getting out in nature. He was surprised how long he actually was talking with her when he heard the voice asking for more change to continue the call and his pockets were empty. They said their rushed goodbyes but before he hung up he heard his mother’s voice hitching slightly.

“I just hope that you keep in touch. I miss my boys.” She admitted in moment of vulnerability that took Ford off kilter.

“I’ll keep in touch and… I am sure he’ll reach out too when he can.” Ford heard himself say, though he still felt that flare of anger inside of his chest towards the idiot. “I love you Ma, and I prom-…” The line went dead as the call was cut off. He hung up the phone. He headed back towards the dorm, his time away having sobered him up after the giddy high of paint fumes. The clouds rumbled with promise of rain and thunder. He went up and they got the windows cracked to let in the cool air.

“Was it a good talk?” McGucket asked as he stirred up some more paint to work on the last wall.

“I think so, but I don’t know. We are not good with… talking. My family is closed lip like that.” He looked out the window and wondered if there was some way to communicate better than he did. He had a lot of unsaid things that felt strange keeping inside. He scratched his chin when McGucket tickled his nose with a paintbrush.

“Earth to Stanford, come in.” That got them both laughing and Ford picked up another brush to whap at McGucket. They made a mess but it was fine, it could be cleaned up after. He finally found an extra activity later when they went to get something to eat and they got asked if they were artists. Ford got signed up with a sketching club and found the activity to be far more rewarding than he had initially believed.


	6. Results

The weeks seemed to blur together, college became rote and routine. Ford would wake up early; go for a run in the pre-dawn light before coming back for a shower and something to eat. He spent the rest of the day in classes. He’d take off in the evenings to go to the library and work on assignments and papers. Then he’d come back to the dorm, eat, and maybe converse or work with McGucket before going to bed. Only to repeat it all over again the next day and the next. He was not complaining, not one bit as he excelled further and further. He was trying to push his intellect to the absolute limit and it did not seem to be challenging him. The only thing that seemed to cause him any difficulty was the bi-weekly phone calls with his mother. They were nice, but he felt that life he had in New Jersey just slipping farther and farther away. She’d sometimes ask him if he had heard from Stanley at all but even if his brother did reach out; he’d more than likely ignore it or push him away. He wanted nothing to do with him after what transpired. It was reaching the end of the semester and Ford realized he’d need to get some part time work if he wanted to stay over the winter. He planned to take a bus back home for Christmas, mostly because his mother insisted that he be there for Shermie’s sake as it would be his son’s first Christmas. He debated asking McGucket if he wanted to come with but the young man opted to spend some time working on his project but urged Ford to go.

“You don’ need to be lumbering around here with me ya goof.” McGucket smiled though Ford knew he was dealing with his own family troubles. Still the young man was full of confidence as he had finally worked up the nerve to ask out the girl from the gas station; Keri, Ford thinks was her name. He did not pay too much mind to his friend’s love life. Though he knew it was going to be a very awkward conversation topic at dinner when he was grilled about his romantic escapades.

“I could be doing so much more instead of just wasting time in New Jersey. So much progress lost because of family.” Ford confided without thinking of how callous it made him sound.

“Stanford, you only get so much time in your life. You are better to spend it with people who care about you than on your own like the loneliest squirrel named Steve.” McGucket’s yokel idioms still made little sense to Ford but he’d spout them with enough conviction that you might be fooled into believing they were deep.

“Fine, you are twisting my arm but I will go for Christmas, but expect me back before New Years. I have to get started on next semester right away.” Ford put his foot down, and he was glad they had taken time to reinforce their dorm as McGucket’s project grew yet larger and heavier; otherwise it might have collapsed the entire building.

“That’s fine by me and mine. Though don’t rush too quick, savor the journey.” McGucket then flipped down the welding mask and resumed work on his project as Ford got ready to go job hunting. He had some free time on his hands as his membership with the art club had ended quite abruptly.

It happened when one evening he arrived to find out that his name had been slipped in the bucket for who the model would be, it was just sketching of hands but they might as well have asked him to strip nude and pose. His self-consciousness was still very strong and despite their apologies he felt they had broken trust with him. He still drew on occasion but he kept it in a book mostly to himself. He knew McGucket had glanced over his shoulder sometimes as he was sketching monsters he had seen in those cheesy old Claymation movies. He got the impression that Fiddleford was easily scared by such things, something he did not tease him about.

He managed to land a position as a typist for one of the English professors. He had a stack of assignments he needed copies made of and Ford had quite the skill of cranking them out, the extra finger made every keystroke all the more productive. He’d even be able to work on some of it while on vacation with an advancement of payment for his good diligence. He knew his father might object to the job as Filbrick was old fashioned and believed secretary work was unmanly. However Ford knew he couldn’t deny the cash it put in his son’s pocket; results were everything to Filbrick Pines. He took his money and picked up some gifts to bring home and bought a bus ticket in advance. He’d be leaving next week, travelling all of the way across the States. He just hoped that the return trip was with good emotions and not sour ones.


	7. Compare

The smell of the Atlantic was overpowering in the chill December air, that or it was just the stench coming off from the barges. Was the air over in California that much cleaner? Well outside of the city maybe but he was not sure what was throwing him off. Ford had opted to walk from the bus station to the little apartment above his father’s pawn shop. He needed to stretch his legs and just wanted to take in the neighborhood fully. It didn’t look like it had changed much at all in the months he had been gone, so he concluded that he was the one who had changed as he felt estranged from his home town. He steered clear of the old beach, knowing that rusty swing set was still there. He did not have the strength to face that yet, if ever. He went around the back of the building and up the stairs on the outside. He wasn’t sure if he should knock or just enter when the choice was made for him. The door opened and he was immediately grabbed and pulled inside by a broad shouldered man.

“Heya little brother!” Sherman’s voice greeted him followed by the rib crushing hug. Ford hugged back and smiled. He took in the sight of his older brother. He was dressed in his New Jersey’s finest of a white tee and weathered blue jeans. His hair was just starting to fill back out from the military crew cut he had. He had joined the Army at eighteen and went to work in the motor pool overseas. Best mechanic he had ever seen, well until he met Fiddleford.

“Hi…” Ford said meekly before he saw Sherman’s wife Marybelle, she had their son and his nephew propped up on her hip, Louis. She came over and gave Ford a one armed hug as Louis grabbed at Ford’s hands, in awe of his extra digits. Ford felt a little overwhelmed but he relaxed as he saw his mother beaming brightly.

“One of my babies is back home.” Caryn moved over and hugged Ford tighter than Shermie had been able to. Ford hugged her back and felt his eyes burn a little and get damp. “You have gotten so thin! Are you eating alright?” She said firmly, her eyes full of motherly worry.

“Three square meals.” Ford lied, he was lucky to make himself eat two consistently with his schedule he had for himself.

“Yeah that’s what Uncle Sam gave me too, square because they all tasted like crackers.” Shermie joked which earned him a sharp look from his mother.

Ford tried to keep his brother out of hot water, he didn’t has as big of a mouth as Stanley, but he was prone to saying dumb things all the same. “Where’s dad?” He asked and looked around, seeing his father’s chair was empty with a newspaper folded over the arm.

“Oh he’s cleaning up his office, your old room, to open up the pull out couch for Shermie and Mary. We can set up the cot for you in the living room.” His mother said with some slight flippancy, he wondered if his father had grumbled about being made to do things.

“I can go help him.” Ford volunteered, figuring he might be able to ask him if he could do some of his typist work in his office. His mother started to object before she relented and nodded. They resumed chatting at the breakfast table, the smell of freshly ground coffee beans pungent in the air. He walked the familiar path back towards their room, his room. He wondered if they had seen his silhouette through the curtain covering the door window and presumed it to be his brother. He did not know why that thought panged in his chest painfully.

When he entered the room his father shot up to his feet and for a moment he believed the man was going to hit him thinking it was his other son, however he grabbed at an old washcloth that was for dusting before seeing it was Ford. He sat back down in his office chair and grunted a welcome. “Thought it was your mother checking on me. Don’t see what the big deal is about them needing room.” He said ambivalently in the middle of what looked like a bunker of old newspaper and various items he seemed to be trying to polish up or fix to sell for a high markup in his Pawn Shop. Filbrick Elmer Pines was a very stern man, he cared about his family; in his own way, Ford knew. Though he didn’t know how far that care went… No he knew exactly where the line ended, when he felt like his belongings were being threatened, and to him any potential money was already counted and entrusted to the famous Pines banking establishment of the slit in the side of his mattress.

“Hi dad.” Ford said a little warily before looking over the office. It was unrecognizable as his old room, which made things a little easier. He did wonder how long after he moved out did his father wait before getting started. Some people might have been generous with saying days. Ford figured about half an hour.

“You looking to buy something or what, Stanford?” Filbrick asked gruffly.

“No, I came to help out. Also I wanted to ask you something.” Ford felt like a little kid again, which was unfair as he was eighteen now. “I need a space to work for my side job with the university, and was wondering if I could use your desk and typewriter, please?”

Filbrick considered the question. “Two bucks an hour to rent it. You pay for your own paper and ink.” He said firmly.

“W-what? That’s… that’s way too much.” Ford stammered and fixed his glasses.

“Oh, am I being unreasonable? Well excuse me for wanting compensation for time lost on my business.” His father shot back.

“No I didn’t mean it like…” Ford was backpedaling and just gave up. He’d have to find somewhere else to work. He sighed and picked up the rag to start cleaning and moving things so Shermie’s family would have a place to sleep. He occasionally got a sound of displeasure from Filbrick as he saw Ford put a box or something in a spot he didn’t like. This went on for an hour before Caryn called back to them.

“You two almost finished? We are going to go out for lunch, Shermie’s buying.” She added probably to entice Filbrick to actually go with. Ford put the last box off of the couch cushions and pulled out the bed. He figured that his mother and Marybelle would get it made up. He then went out to kitchen where he saw his mother hastily hiding a folded piece of paper. “Thank you for helping your father, Stanford. You want to go help Mary put Lou in the car?” She asked.

“Oh I need to put the gifts I brought under the tree.” Ford said as he unzipped the suitcase. They were nothing big, but he figured they would something at least. He spotted a present tucked in the back with the label ‘ _To: Stan_ ’ in his brother’s handwriting. He knew it was a clever trick. He got done and was following his mother out the door when he spotted her sticking the note to the window of the door once dad was down the steps to his car. He glanced at it before his mother could usher him down the stairs.

“ _Stanley,_

_If you come by before we are back, please use the key to come inside and warm up. I have a sandwich waiting for you in the fridge. I hope you stick around but I understand if you don’t. Leave me a note in the usual spot if you are able._

_Love you forever and always,_

_Mom”_

Ford saw her eyes as she looked away from the note but didn’t catch him staring. He wondered how she was holding up not knowing where her other son was at. He didn’t feel jealousy though, he knew that she had her own concerns for him as well. It would not be fair to their mother to compare such anxiety. He gave her his arm to steady herself as some of the steps had a slight slickness to them. She squeezed his arm in thanks and kept close as they went to the idling car, ready to drive around town looking for a good place to eat. When they got back to the apartment, his mother hurried ahead and was inside before his father got done groaning about Shermie driving them around. Ford went inside and saw no sign of Stanley and his mother made no indication whether the note had been moved at all or if she found a response anywhere. He was about to check the fridge when she tutted at him.

“Stanford Filbrick Pines, you just ate. No snooping around for snacks. We’ll get started on dinner soon enough.” She chided him, but he smiled and went to sit down and talk with his brother once he came inside.


	8. Troubleshooting

It was Christmas day in the Pines home. Ford was woken up by his mother’s shuffling into the kitchen followed by a worryingly deep and hacking cough. He felt around for his glasses and put them on. He got up slowly as he heard her start on breakfast. He wandered out into the kitchen with her, the linoleum cold on his bare feet. She turned and looked at him; her age showing more without her usual makeup on.

“I am sorry baby, I didn’t mean to wake you.” His mom’s voice had a bit of an extra rasp to it and she cleared her throat to fight a tickle that must be lingering back there. “This cold weather is such a pain.” She said with her usual deflecting tone.

“Ma, are you feeling alright?” He asked as he spotted her pack of Lucky Strikes on the counter. He never had a desire to pick up the habit, though he knew Stanley had been known to pilfer some, mostly to sell to other kids on the playground, though he had caught the whiff of tobacco on his breath some days.

“Of course, sweetie. Just getting older. Soon I am gonna be a withered crone. Might improve my business.” Caryn joked which made Ford chuckle.

“You are still pretty.” Ford assured her which earned a tinge of pink on her cheeks.

“Stanford, you are too sweet. You must be popular with the girls over there talkin’ like that.” She said and bumped him with her elbow.

“No, well I was part of an art club for a bit but… that didn’t work out.” Ford looked at his abnormal hands. She must have caught him staring because she was grabbing them gently.

“Honey, I want to ask you. Are you… ya know? Different?” Caryn was clearly not sure how to approach this topic, and despite Ford’s initial shock at the question; he understood that she wanted to know so she could be his ally for the inevitable talk that was due during dinner.

“Ma… I am not…” Ford didn’t really know what he was going to say. He just didn’t think about that stuff. He had tried to flirt before but no one took him too seriously. He figured it was because he was just different. He did not know what he wanted, he just was content to learn and then seek out his place in the scientific community. “I am just not all that worried about girls right now. You have a grandson now, but I don’t know if I am ready for any of that.”

She did not seem completely sure but nodded. “Alright, I just wondered if… ya know. But I will love you no matter who you are, you will always be my special boy.” She hugged him before cursing as the bacon started to smoke a little and was stuck to the bottom of the pan. He helped her out getting it pried off without making too big of a mess. But he got put on toast duty as he toasted and buttered pieces to put on a plate for the family.

Breakfast went by without any troubles, and the opening of presents was a lovely affair as little Louis got to open up some presents from everyone. He got a heavily used baseball and adult glove from Filbrick along with the comment “He’ll grow into them, and one day he’ll be playing for the Yankees. So I better be getting some free tickets,”. From Caryn he got a knitted cap with a Christmas tree on the front. Ford felt better about his choice when his package was opened and out came a couple little books on some folklore; one for the United States and the other for Europe, “I figured they would be good for reading to him and give him something to read on his own. They have quite a few pictures too,”.

The other gifts Ford got for his family was a clock for his father’s store made from old California railroad ties and spikes for the face and hands, for his mother a set of tarot cards etched onto red wood, and for Shermie and his wife Marybelle he got them a decorative plate showing Yosemite National Park. He had been limited on what he could find for them and tried to make things that would be nice pieces to display. From his parents Ford received clothing and some posters to hang up on his wall back at college of Einstein and Carl Sagan. Shermie’s family all put their name on one gift and in it was an amazing looking tan trench coat with padded elbows and deep wide pockets on the inside. He stood up and pulled it on before going to stand in front of a mirror. He swam in it slightly but he was still shocked how good he looked in it.

“Shermie… thank you. I don’t know what more to say.” Ford’s voice hitched slightly and his older brother came up and slapped him on the back.

“Well you are going to be a scientist so we got you this lab coat.” His older brother laughed, Ford looked at him and wanted to say something about it not being a lab coat but he was still overwhelmed from the thoughtfulness.

Marybelle walked over and helped fix Ford’s collar and smiled. “You certainly make an impressive figure. Maybe I picked the wrong brother.” She teased which caused Ford’s face to go beet red, earning another laugh from Shermie.

“A bit too late for that, you are stuck with me baby. Mrs. Marybelle Ariel Pines for the rest of your life.” His brother swept his wife up into a kiss which made Ford feel even more awkward so he went over and sat down next to his nephew; Louis Alexander Pines. Once again the toddler took hold of Ford’s extra finger and held on tight. Ford smiled slightly despite his discomfort, at least the kid was fine with him. Everything was just about perfect when Filbrick reached over by the tree.

“Here’s another one for you Stanford, guess someone got lazy halfway writing your name.” He grumbled and tossed that lone remaining present to him. Ford caught it and looked to see his mother and sibling trade a pained glance. Ford had little choice but to open it else it raise his father’s suspicion. Inside was a framed photo of the family from years back. His parents, Shermie when he turned eighteen, and the twins with the biggest smiles on their faces. He felt his eyes sting and looked up. The room suddenly felt quieter and with a massive hole in it. Louis reached over and put his small hand on the picture, pointing at the different people and then looking at them in reality. He stopped on Stan’s face and looked around confused and trying to figure out where the missing person was before Ford took off his glasses so that when Louis saw him his little face broke into a massive grin. He babbled excitedly and messed with Ford’s face before seeing his six fingered hands and getting confused again. The atmosphere in the room changed drastically and he saw his mother get up first.

“I am going to step outside for a little bit.” Caryn said, trying to hide the constriction in her voice. Shermie looked at his wife before going outside with his mother. Marybelle took Louis to make sure he didn’t need changed which left Ford and his father in the living room.

“Stanford, clean up all this trash, and then I need you in the shop to help fix one of the old RCA radios. The son of a bitch can’t pick up any signals.” Filbrick ordered and got up to go take care of what concerned him. Ford could not help but wonder if it wasn’t just the radio that needed troubleshooting. The events did not leave him hopeful for when it was dinner time. Part of him wished to just pack his things and get on the earliest bus back to California. However he did what was asked and as he stepped out to take the trash to the dumpster he heard his mother crying.

“I just wish that I knew that he was okay.” Caryn’s voice was strained.

“I know ma, and I am sure he is fine. He just… doesn’t want to cause any trouble with dad. I am not sure how Ford feels about him though. Sometimes I get the feeling he misses him, but I also get the idea he still blames him.” Shermie comforted his mother as best as he could. Ford did his best not to alert them as he put the trash bag by the dumpster and went back up the steps to take the inside stairway to the pawn shop below. He found the rickety radio and started to tinker with it as he wondered how long Stanley would be a ghost no one talked about openly in the family.

“Damn you for making this so difficult.” Ford muttered frustrated with his twin.


	9. Miscalculation

The day started to sleet heavily as Christmas dinner was being prepared. Down in the pawn shop Ford spent his time stripping wires, replacing transistors, and removing mouse droppings from an old radio; his father had made it clear that this work would not go without compensation but Ford had a gut feeling what that meant. He would test the radio now and again after working for some time, only to get garbled Christmas songs. He did not know what else was wrong with it; every part he could replace he had. He wondered if he could call up McGucket and ask him for tips on how to fix a radio. He could just picture the man now.

“ _Now listen here Stanford, once all technical avenues have been explored, you have to try unconventional methods. Try filling it with beans, or making an animal sacrifice, or just give the thing a whack!_ ”

Ford paused as he wondered if his solution was truly that simple? He had certainly seen it work on McGucket’s truck. That had been an interesting time when he had assisted with some repair work and the final touch was a twenty pound sledge that the small man swung with incredible precision right into the engine block and brought it sputtering back to life. Ford closed his six fingers into a fist and gave the radio a gentle smack. For a brief moment the sweet smoky voice of Billie Holiday crooned about her love keeping her warm before she was swallowed up by static. He laughed and made a note to thank McGucket next chance he got. He wound back his fist and was ready to hit the radio again when his father’s voice barked at him.

“If you can’t figure it out just give up, no need to break my things!” His tone was cold and annoyed. “I thought you had better sense than that.” Filbrick growled as he stood there.

“No I was just about to fix it, I swear. I got it to work for a second before.” Ford quickly tried to defend himself but it seemed to only aggravate his father more.

“You expect me to believe that? Get off your keister and come upstairs, your mother is about to set the table and wants you to get cleaned up. And don’t try breaking anything on your way out.” Filbrick warned, he seemed to be in rare form and as Ford got closer he could smell the scotch on his breath. It foretold of how much of a tempestuous dinner was about to unfold. Ford hurried upstairs and got dressed in his nice clothes for dinner. He helped put out plates as the food was carried to the table. He saw his mother looking tired but keeping up the holiday cheer as she moved over and kissed Ford’s cheek under the mistletoe hung in the archway between the dining area and the kitchen.

“Got all cleaned up? Let me see your hands, nope go wash them. I don’t want any dirt and I expect to see all twelve nails shining, Mister.” Caryn spoke firmly before giving a laugh as she went over and kissed Louis’ cheek to make him giggle. Ford did as asked and even made sure he didn’t have any mouse droppings clinging under his nails. He was going to be seated between his father and Shermie while Marybelle was on the other side with Louis in a highchair, and then either parents at the ends. Ford figured the seating arrangement was to try and cover up how there was an extra chair that was going to go unfilled and so Ford wasn’t on a side by himself.

Once everyone was seated they started to dish out food and drinks. His father had his scotch, his mother and Marybelle had a glass of red each, and Shermie had a can of beer. “You want one Ford?” His older brother asked as he offered to stand up and get it from the fridge.

“No thank you, I’ll stick with water.” Ford had drank a couple times with McGucket but he never had a taste for it.

“His constitution is a bit too delicate it seems.” Filbrick sniped at his younger son. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the look Shermie fixed him with.

“On second thoughts, yeah grab me one.” Ford said firmly, not going to be pushed around tonight anymore. Shermie hesitated before he got one and popped the top off. Ford took it and drank a quarter of it. He fought the urge to spit it out as he seriously did not like the taste but he swallowed it down and began to dig in.

This Pines family dinner was quickly turning into a battlefield where everyone had tenuous alliances and comments were ammunition spent. “So I heard that you were still working in that grease monkey garage. Can’t find anywhere that could pay better?” Filbrick asked his eldest son.

“It is a good job, Dad. I am in line to become head mechanic once Yancy retires.” Shermie said firmly.

“A dead beat job if I ever saw it.” Filbrick spoke into his glass as he took another drink.

His mother spoke up to Marybelle to stop Shermie from saying something. “Are you two thinking about moving into a house out in the suburbs? I hear that they are really starting to become something.” Caryn was doing her best to be friendly with her daughter-in-law.

“Oh, we were thinking about staying in town. My mother is helping out a lot with Louis as I pick up shifts in the department store. I had invited her to come with us, but she wanted to go down to Florida to see my aunt.” Marybelle said kindly.

“I am happy to watch him any time you need me to. I love getting to spend time with my grandson.” Caryn looked at Louis who was making a mess out of his mashed potatoes.

“No thank you, Caryn.” Marybelle spoke up quickly, her cheeks tinging dark as she realized how fast she had shot down his mother’s offer. He had a feeling she was still unsure about letting her son stay here after the huge fight which ended up with Stanley being kicked out. His mother hid her hurt well but she took a defeated sip of wine.

“You got any girls you are sweet on back West, bro-bro?” Shermie asked and it took a moment for Ford to realize he was being dragged into the conversation. He noticed interested looks from his family, except for his mother who was ready to come to his aid.

“N-no. I am mostly just working on school and the side job as a… As a typist.” Ford took a drink of beer and glanced around.

“I think it is very smart to keep your mind on your studies, baby.” His mother said proudly. “You are so bright.”

“From what I have heard, you are taking quite the course load.” Marybelle said friendlily, having no issues with Ford. All of them seemed to be supportive of his college education. All except for the patriarch of the Pines.

“You have an issue with girls, Stanford? I know you never did anything in high school, at least your idiot brother could do that.” Filbrick gave a one two punch towards both of the twins. One who wasn’t there to defend himself and the other who was not able to stand up to him.

“Dad, I think you’ve had enough scotch for tonight.” Shermie said and reached across the table, over Ford’s plate to grab at his father’s glass. However the older man grabbed his son’s wrist.

“Touch my glass and I’ll break your damn hand. I was just asking a simple question. A father has a right to know if his son’s a fairy. I know you’ve wondered it too.” Filbrick said sharply, his words slurring.

“No, I am not. I just want to get my degrees and get started working.” Ford answered quietly, looking down at his plate.

“See? Now leave him be, hon.” Caryn tried to defuse the situation however things were not going to be that simple.

“Let go of my wrist before I break your nose.” Shermie seethed angrily. He was built a lot like Filbrick, though without the age and fat built up.

“I’d like to see you try, punk.” Filbrick let go of his son’s wrist disdainfully. “I guess I have to make due with just you continuing the family name with any chance of pride. I got two other sons who won’t; one’s probably a queer and the other will marry some whore if he’s lucky.”

“Leave Stanley alone, he’s already out of the house.” Caryn’s voice was prickly and angry. “And don’t you talk about Stanford like that. He’s right there.”

“Yeah and he’s not denying anything, he knows I have his number and he can’t defend himself. I signed them up for boxing lessons so they might get a spine but no such luck. They get it from your side of the family you know.” Filbrick was looking for a fight with anyone who’d give it to him. “The big loser is a treasure hunter last I heard, out near Seaside Heights.” He scoffed. “I guess he thinks he can fail his way to success.”

“I am not going to stay here and listen to this.” Ford said standing up suddenly. He was quite the lightweight as that one beer already had him feeling off balanced. He went to the door and opened it up. He felt hands on him and turned to see his mother, her eyes wide and full of fear. She must have thought she was about to see her other son be driven off from her by his father.

Shermie was standing now too and pointing his finger at Filbrick. “Do you even hear yourself speaking? You know what I have heard, I heard the guys at your lodge finally kicked your ass to the curb. You can’t help but push people away from you.”

“What?! Those jerks have been running their mouths? I ought to kill them.” Filbrick got up and slammed his hand on the table. This made Louis start to cry so Marybelle got him from the highchair and put him down so he was not in danger of things being thrown.

“Sherman, I think we need to go.” Marybelle suggested and walked over to her husband’s side to hold him back.

“It’s never your fault is it, dad? You always find a way to twist it around so you don’t have to take a hard look at yourself. You kicked your own son out of the house! What kind of piece of shit does that?!” His older brother was not backing down, and soon even more shouting started to happen as his mother told Shermie off for speaking to his father like that. Marybelle then yelled that Caryn had confided in her how she blamed him for Stanley being gone from the family.

It was all too loud when Ford heard Louis cry from behind him outside on the top landing of the stairs. He wheeled around to see his nephew sticking his head between the bars of the railing, leg poised to step on the other side where he’d surely fall. Stanford lunged out the door to grab at the toddler and pull him up. He got Louis safely into his arms when he made a serious miscalculation of how quickly he was moving; it was then that he remembered that his dress shoes had no grip. He tucked him into his chest as the slick ice took his feet out from under him.

Stanford Pines’ guide to falling down the stairs; step 1, step 3, step 8, 9, 10, and then ground. He hit the pavement hard with his back, but he absorbed the impact so Louis was unharmed. At least he hoped so; his nephew’s wails sounded so far away. His right arm was twisted out above him and felt strange. He tried to wiggle his sixth finger and only fire answered his nerves. He was now aware that his arm was dislocated. “ _Oh… that explained a lot,_ ” he thought before he too cried out.


	10. Adjustment

The emergency room at Christmas was the last place Ford wanted to be. He had his arm in a makeshift sling that Shermie’s military training had afforded him the knowledge of. He was currently riding the high of a couple Percocet that had brought the agony in his shoulder and back down to a dull roar while they were stuck in the crowded waiting room. Everything seemed like a blur up to when he got sat down in an uncomfortable bench seat while bland TV played somewhere in the Hospital. Shermie had left him to go to the payphone so he could pass updates to the rest of the family. The fall had sobered up Filbrick pretty quick who helped get Ford to his feet and in the car. Marybelle had been crying in shock as she held Louis who joined his mother tears in confusion. Caryn was beside herself with grief as she feared the worst. As thick skulled as his father was, he did his best to comfort his wife. The ride to the hospital had been awful as he waited for the painkillers to kick in. Every bump was agony and the inertia when Shermie had to make a sharp turn nearly blacked Ford out. He heard his name being said and he looked up to see a pretty nurse standing there.

“I am Stanford Pines.” His tongue felt thick in his mouth but he managed to get through the couple of questions. Even if you put a gun to his head he’d be unable to remember what they were though. He got taken to the back and put on a bed where the nurse rolled up his sleeve to stick him with a needle of morphine. He tried to think of what he knew about it when he realized that oxycodone was derived from the same source of morphine. He had heard of horror stories of the effects of too much. His chest felt tight as he panicked before it hit him and he sunk into the floor it felt like. He was swimming in his thoughts and was relieved as he didn’t feel any pain. The nurse left him and soon Shermie was there with him again.

“Oh man, you look like you are on cloud nine.” Shermie joked through tense features. Ford knew he was worried sick and deeply grateful for what Ford did.

“Clouds weigh about one… point… one, million pounds.” Ford found himself regurgitating information that he knew. Shermie did his best to follow along but Ford stopped when he realized his brother wasn’t paying attention.

“Stanford… do you want me to try and get in touch with Stanley? Let him know you are hurt?” His older brother asked, hoping that the twins were still as tight as they had been.

“No…” Ford sat up, only to feel dizzy and lay back down. “He stole my dream… college. Broke my project. I was going to do… great things.” Ford clenched his fist with his good arm.

“Hey calm down bro-bro.” Shermie said and brushed Ford’s hair back. His palms were so calloused and warm. _Stanley’s hands were on their way to being that rough_ ; a random thought in his head noted. They were interrupted as the doctor came in to check Ford over. He had Shemie step outside and asked if Ford could take off his shirt. It took some time and a lot of sweating but he got his arm free from the sleeve without needing it cut off. Already the skin was turning a dark purple from bruising. Despite the double dose of Percocet and Morphine, when the doctor pressed his fingers into Ford’s shoulder he yelled out. Shermie was through the door in an instant.

“What are you doing to my brother?” The bulky ex-army corporal demanded.

The doctor however was unflinching as he continued to poke and prod. “Finding out whether or not your brother will need surgery. I am not thinking so, but I might need your help holding him still.”

“Still for what?” Ford heard himself asking as the Doctor motioned and Shermie tentatively held Ford in place. “Still for what?” He asked again looking between the two. “Still for…” He screamed as the doctor pulled the arm in a precise direction and Ford could feel his ball joint slip back into the socket. He fell back to the bed now covered in a thin coat of sweat. He tried to rock away the pain but the Doctor indicated Shermie to hold him still until it settled back to a dull roar of pain which the drugs could handle.

Hours later he was back home, having been put on the pull out bed in his old room; now his father’s office. He had his arm in a more comfortable sling and was feeling his head pulsing from the drugs leaving his system. He didn’t see the appeal of not being clear headed, he was going to do his best to just survive on some Ibuprofen and aspirin. Shermie and his family had opted to rent a room for the night. Tensions were still high in the household as they said their goodbyes. Marybelle had hugged Ford for almost five minutes as she thanked him over and over for saving her son’s life. He had been speechless but just gave her a one arm hug back. Filbrick and Shermie had parted with a firm handshake and only terse words exchanged. Ford presumed that a fracture had formed because of the conversation. He could imagine that Shermie would keep the rest of the family at arm’s length now, all except for Ford. It left a knot of anxiety in his stomach, but he knew that even if he studied the difficult nature of family psychology. The Pines family would be an anomaly.

He was starting to doze off when the door opened and his mother came inside to check on him. She sat down on the side of the bed and brushed his hair from his face. “Are you sure you want to take the bus tomorrow?” She said timidly, which made Ford feel even worse about his decision but he nodded.

“It isn’t you… or even Dad. I just… feel more myself over there.” Ford reached out and took her hand in his.

“I knew it was goin’ to happen. My boys all leaving the nest forever.” Caryn wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“I am never going to not be your son, Ma. Besides, one day I am going to be a rich and famous scientist. And I’ll have this big house where you can come stay with me. Enjoy the California sun and water.” Ford knew he was trying to emulate Stanley and how he had a knack for selling his ideas where their mother would feel better about it.

“I am a Jersey girl, baby. But I’ll come visit you at least. As long as you promise to come visit me over here too.” His mother said and squeezed his fingers. He was the only one he trusted never to make fun of him for it, _Stanley never did either_ ; another stray thought. He blamed the morphine for them.

“I promise you, cross my heart.” Ford did the motion and then hugged her tightly. “I need to get my sleep if I am going to make the bus.” He said softly and he felt his mother nod.

“Okay baby, you get some rest, and if you need a little longer to get your strength I want you to take it. I will see you in the morning.” His mother got up and went to the door, pausing to look back. He had a feeling she wasn’t looking at the present when she did though. She was thinking back to when there was bunk bed in here and a whole lot of mess. A room where two brothers shared everything. It was going to be an adjustment for her to have her home empty of her children. “I love you, Stanford.” She said and then blew a kiss.

“I love you too, Ma.” Ford said wearily as he laid his head down and closed his eyes. He drifted off to sleep almost instantly, so he wasn’t sure if it was dream or reality when he heard another voice; a gruffer voice.

“ _Love you, Son_.”


	11. Decontamination

The trip back across the states was less fun than it had been the first time he did it when he left for college. While the bus seats had been uncomfortable the first time, it was agony on Ford’s back. He knew he’d be seeing chiropractor for a while to get back to his old self. If he even could get there again. He kept thinking about the slowly shrinking figures of his parents as they waved goodbye to him; the fact that his father had deemed him worthy of getting out of the car for was evidence enough of the sanctity of the moment. He would still make phone calls to his mother but he was unsure if he was wanting to go home for summer. He groaned as he realized how much more difficult his life was going to become with one arm resigned to a sling for more than a month. However he was a Pines, and they were nothing if not tenacious. He’d put for all of the effort he needed to in order to find his place.

He arrived back in California in the wee hours of the morning, he had managed to find out the time and give McGucket a call to pick him up. After the icy cold grip of the East Coast, the West seemed almost balmy. He got off the bus and looked around for the familiar rust bucket, figuring he might be running late Ford sat down on a bench only to feel his tail bone take umbrage with that activity. His body was tired of sitting. He needed to stand but he was just too exhausted and sleep deprived. He had started to chew on his tan coat’s collar around Colorado. He took a deep breath of the air and waited listening for the sputtering engine. He didn’t think he had fallen asleep when he felt someone shake him slightly. Ford opened his eyes to find his friend standing there.

“I waved at you as soon as you got off the bus. Did you hit your head too?” McGucket joked, though he caught himself. “You didn’t did you? I remember you talking about the fall but you didn’t make too much sense.”

“Fiddleford? Wait, how did you get here?” Ford asked blearily.

“I drove here you goof, I didn’t hitch a ride on horseback if you were wondering.” McGucket helped him to his feet and took his suitcase. “I like the coat, it really suits you. Though the sling might be a bit much.”

“Where’s your truck at?” Ford craned his stiff neck trying to spot the thing; it should have stood out like a dinosaur among chickens.

“I drove my car up here. Figured you deserved better than the work truck.” McGucket said as he led him to a normal looking red sedan. It was almost too normal, he wasn’t sure if he had somehow slipped into an alternate dimension or something.

“You have a car? Why did we take your truck everywhere then?” Ford asked incredulous.

“Because I like my nice things to stay nice. No offense Stanford, but you aren’t exactly the cleanliest individual when it comes to projects.” McGucket said wryly. “Did you honestly think I drove out here in that truck like the Beverly Hillbillies? My family owns a mechanic shop, I know how to drive a decent car.” He scoffed and put Ford’s suitcase in the trunk. Ford had the decency to fluster at being called out.

“It just seemed to fit.” Ford admitted and looked at his shoes anxiously.

“Don’t beat yourself up over some assumin’ you done did. Happens all the time. I picked that piece of junk up for a song and have been working at it. Going to be a proper vehicle… eventually.” Fiddleford got the door and swept his hand to indicate Ford sit. “After you, Mr. Pines.”

“Very cute, just because I am down an arm, doesn’t mean you need to wait on me hand and foot.” Ford said defensively but he was appreciative of his friend.

“Oh well tickle my taters, that’s new. So I can expect ya to do the cookin’ now?” McGucket quirked a brow and peered at him down his nose. Ford was rendered speechless at that and just got in the car. McGucket needled him only a little on the way back to campus. Ford made the slow climb to their floor and struggled with his keys to get the door opened. Why did he have to put them in his right pocket? How did he even manage that? He finally got inside and was surprised at how… clean it was. What happened while he was away, seriously?

“Fiddleford, are you feeling alright? I mean…” Ford gestured generally to the interior. The macrochip was even gone, which only made things even more confusing.

“I had Keri over a few times and we cleaned up… among other things.” McGucket grinned sheepishly and his face went red.

“Well you did a spectacular job, did you two work on the project? I did not think she was the… oh. OHHH!” Ford was caught off guard. He came around to what had happened. He had seen a lot of himself in his friend, but turns out Fiddleford was still mostly normal and Ford was ever the odd duckling. “So I take it… you two are together?” Ford asked tentatively. He got a nod and Ford laughed. “Congratulations.”

This took McGucket back a step. “You aren’t mad that I had someone stay the night? I mean, we will still be able to be friends and all, just might not have every weekend to play DD&MD or go looking for trouble now.”

“Fiddleford, after the holiday I had. I’ve learned you have to appreciate the small things in life. Otherwise they might slip away.” Ford said with a sad smile. “I also sort of see the point of humanity’s natural prerogative to procreate. My nephew is really cute.”

“Knock it off with talkin’ ‘bout procreating… we ain’t that far along yet. I mean, to think of the family way. But also we need to talk about you saving that kid. That was really brave of you.” McGucket said in awe which Ford didn’t completely understand. He had been too worked up over his father’s rudeness to think about closing the door, he had been the reason that the boy had been at risk.

“If you want to put it that way. I just did what I had to.” Ford surmised and sat down on the now cleared off couch and sighed. He took out a bottle of Ibuprofen only to realize he didn’t have a glass of water. He shrugged and tried to dry swallow them like he knew some people could. He made a grave mistake and gagged. McGucket hurried over with a jar of liquid and Ford took a swig to wash down the pills, only instead to feel like he just swallowed fire. He coughed and looked at him. “ _What is that stuff?!_ ”

“Ooops… I just grabbed the nearest… its choop.” McGucket answered, Ford was sensing he was using a colloquialism again and nodded for him to explain. “Homebrew, Shiney, Hooch, White Lightning, Moonshine!” He finally spat out.

“Why do we have moonshine in our dorm?!” Ford whispered loudly, he was certain it was illegal in California.

“My cousin sent me a care package for Christmas.” McGucket answered defensively. “It don’ hurt none. ‘sides you might need the extra help. No offense to ya, but we got them bugs deader than a doornail, and I knows them busses ain’t the cleanest. So we fixing to get you batheded.” He said firmly. Ford was going to object but to be honest, he wanted a shower. It’d be nice to go through decontamination and crawl into bed feeling clean. However it was not so simple and he had to get help in the dorm showers from McGucket, but thankfully it was early enough that the few people who had stayed were not awake to embarrass Ford during the process. An hour later he was not quite swimming, but on the shoreline of the foggy state that intoxication brought. He eased into bed as McGucket took all of Ford’s clothes to be washed and treated. Ford did not know what he had done to earn a friend like that. He’d do anything for McGucket if he asked. He hadn’t had someone like that since… well… his brother. He hoped that the Holidays were treating him better. With that thought he fell deeply asleep.


	12. Question

His recovery was not the easiest but he was ambidextrous enough to get by with minimal sweating. Things felt so strange and different at the dorm, but Ford simply chalked it up due to Fiddleford’s paramour as a frequent visitor. There came to be certain expectations that needed to be maintained; mostly the dorm room’s cleaned state. Ford would be loathed to admit that he actually missed the slightly ramshackle aesthetic from before; though he was glad that McGucket was forced to retire his chewing tobacco habit for the time being as Ford had made the error more than once of picking up soda cans and not checking the contents within before sipping. Along with the changing of the living quarters, Ford was surprised by the change in treatment he received from other students; seems everyone had respect for those who walked around with their arms in slings. He figured it must have meant that there was a good story attached to it which could be wrestled out of them. However as quickly as his upturn in popularity arrived, it departed even faster once he was free from the sling and classes started up again. He still felt stiff, but it was manageable enough to get by day to day.

His days were suddenly changed when one afternoon while he was studying away at the library; a text book laid open in front of him as he used a hand grip strengthener to help with his recovery process. He was completely in his own world when he heard someone clear their throat, though from the tone it might not have been the first time done and just the one he finally noticed. He looked up to see a young woman standing there looking at him. He put his hands on his knees where they would be out of sight.

“I am sorry, was I being too loud, Miss?” Ford stammered.

“Oh wow, she totally said you were cute but didn’t say anything about you being quite so adorable.” The girl’s native California drawl matched her sun kissed skin and hair.

“I beg your pardon?” Ford looked around wondering if something was going on. No way there was a girl who approached him and was complimenting him.

“Polite too… I am totally pleased to meet you. My name is Lynda, I am Keri’s friend.” She smiled and extended her hand. Ford reluctantly took it, but didn’t linger too long as he didn’t want her to freak about his hand. He had some hang ups about that, mostly revolving around one Cathy from Elementary.

“Stanford Pines.” He said stiffly, not intentionally just nervous.

“No need to be so formal. Do you like Stan or Ford better?” Lynda asked him.

“F-Ford, if that’s okay.” He felt extremely awkward and sweaty, he hadn’t been like this since he was prepubescent.

“Of course, Ford. So I was told I could find you here, and that Keri is inviting you to come with her, her boyfriend, and I to a concert this weekend.” Lynda said cheerfully and Ford’s first instinct was to politely decline when he heard his older brother’s voice in his head, _Don’t be a dope, this chick is pretty cute and she seems to like ya, go out and live a little bro-bro_. Curse his brother for his down to Earth sensibilities.

“Yeah I’d like that.” Ford said with a smile that took all of his effort.

“I am glad, see you later… Ford.” Lynda was gone and Ford waited until she rounded a bookshelf before he fell back in his chair.

“Holy cow!” Ford exclaimed, only to get shushed by the Librarian who looked at him sharply like a harpy looking over books instead of a Greek king. Ford shrunk down in his chair, the motion of which made his shoulder ache but he was contemplating what had happened. He was going on a date, a double date with Fiddleford and Keri, but a date nonetheless. That left one large, burning question in his mind; how was he going to screw this up?


	13. Discovery

Ford was anxious as he walked back to the dorm late that evening. He went inside and didn’t see McGucket, so he dropped off his backpack and books to go across the street and past the gas station to the self-storage place. The early March air was clear and in full swing of spring. He found the door rolled up on unit 618 and his friend listening to some John Denver on his radio as he worked on the macrochip, though they had worked at shrinking it down so that it wasn’t so heat intensive. Ford didn’t say anything and just took the nearest rolling chair to move across from McGucket and start straightening filament.

“So when were you going to tell me that you and Keri were setting me up?” Ford asked casually and McGucket looked up from the soldering he was doing.

“Oh… well today, Lynda went ahead of us didn’t she?” McGucket was chagrinned but he did not sound surprised.

“In the library.” Ford said as he met his friend’s gaze. “I agreed to it, though I would have looked like a real jerk if I had said no.” He concluded.

“Did you want to say no?” Fiddleford cooled off the tip of his tool and focused on the conversation, motioning with his eyes for Ford to put down the filaments and do the same.

“I... I don’t know. I mean she seemed very nice and I had that big argument when I visited home.” Ford folded his hands in his lap. “I guess I wanted to go, and just give it a try. See what you and my brother get out of it.”

This cracked up McGucket. “You are as clueless as a fish in an aeroplane.” He snorted and shook his head. “It feels nice to have someone who just understands you. Beyond just a purely scientific angle.”

“I thought you understood me?” Ford asked confused at what he was implying.

“I mean beyond even friends, I get you Stanford, but there are parts of you I plumb don’ know how to take.” McGucket didn’t sound annoyed which made Ford even more confused as if he didn’t understand something; it’d frustrate him to no end until he got to the bottom of the solution. Fiddleford shook his head. “People aren’t a puzzle to solve, they are only people and some people just find the one who understand them the best. Sometimes it is just their friends. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Do you think Lynda will understand me?” Ford was growing worried as he looked at his hands, thinking of Cathy’s revulsion.

“I have only met her a few times, but Keri knows her better and I trust Keri’s judgement. Besides, Lynda is a Psych major, if anyone can get in your noodle, it’d be her.” McGucket was doing his best to be supportive.

“Well I don’t trust her expertise if she hasn’t had you committed to an asylum after meeting you.” Ford grinned slightly and ribbed him back.

“Says the one who went cartwheeling down the stairs.” McGucket shot back and laughed.

“I was saving my nephew, and besides neither your girlfriend nor her friend first met you when you were knocking a wall out between two dorm rooms to fit a science project.” Ford played his trump card which caught Fiddleford flatfooted. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times as he tried to come up with a retort before he gracefully accepted defeat and went back to work. Ford felt pretty good about this outcome and did the same.

The weekend came with frightening speed and as they were driving down to Long Beach, Ford was learning the finer points of concert etiquette in the backseat of McGucket’s car from Lynda. “Don’t buy any merch after the show, because that is when they jack up the price, but if you buy it before don’t wear it during the show or else people will think you are just playing dress up and don’t actually like the band.” Ford wondered if he should be taking notes and regretted not having his coat; it was actually very useful with many large pockets inside. He listened until McGucket turned his head to speak.

“Alright folks, remember to keep up the buddy system.” He said as he picked up Keri’s hand and gave it a gentlemanly kiss which earned him a girlish giggle.

“Fiddleford, you are something else I swear.” Keri said incredulously and once parked the two lovebirds were out and heading to line to show their tickets to get inside the Arena.

“Well uhm… let’s go.” Ford said nervously and went to get out of the car when Lynda took his hand.

“Buddy system remember?” She said coyly and squeezed. He was already sweating nervously but she did not seem to mind. They made their way through the crowd but Lynda suddenly stopped and swore as she saw some security guards checking bags and pockets on the way through. Ford didn’t understand but suddenly she stood up on her toes and planted a smooch on Ford’s lips. He was taken aback and was dazed as she pulled him forward. He snapped out of it as the guard motioned for him to step forward.

“Hands up and let me do a pat down.” The guard said mechanically until Ford held up his hands which threw the guard for a loop. “Whoa, check out the freakshow.” Ford’s heart dropped and he expected people to start laughing at him. “Come on through man, give us a high six.” And Ford felt both guards hit his hands and sent him on his way.

Lynda was with him again and put her arm looped through his. “I can’t believe that worked.” She said incredulously as she reached into his pocket and pulled out a baggie of rolled paper objects.

“Wait did you use me to smuggle that in?” Ford asked caught off guard by the move.

“What? I’ll let you have some too. And trust me I’ll make it up to you later.” Lynda said with a suggestive smile as they met up with McGucket and Keri. “We want to get up front or towards the middle?” She asked as she hurried to loop arms with Keri. Ford stuck his hands in his pockets and tagged along. Ford bought himself a cheap beer and tagged along with the McGucket as the girls went wild over the merchandise tables. Soon Ford had a couple T-shirts to add to his closet and they made it to the front of the stage.

Ford was not sure what to expect as the band came out to the strings of Ode to Joy and the crowd started to cheer. He was pushed against and he became aware how close in proximity he was with Lynda when the band started to jam out and what looked like an alien wearing vinyl started to sing. He squinted his eyes and thought he recognized the man.

♫“ _So come on, Come on. We really got a good thing going!_ ”♪

Ford had never been to a concert before but he could swear the air was almost electrified, and the crowd seemed half possessed. It was halfway through _Changes_ that the smell of whatever Lynda had rolled, and used to him to smuggle in, hits his nose as she lights one. It’s not until the rocking outro to _Space Oddity_ that Ford finds himself dancing, and it takes until _Starman_ for him to be dancing face to face with Lynda. By this point Ford is pretty sure he will never have an experience like this again. He meets Lynda’s eyes and he leans in when all of the sudden he is hit by a discovery. He had not really paid attention to his date completely. He thought it had been a trick of the light but her eyes were different colors; complete heterochromia.

“You are different… like me… what’s the odds?” Ford said softly.

“WHAT?!” Lynda shouted, trying to speak over the chords of _Suffragette City_.

Ford decided to tell her later, but simply settled in for the last of the concert, his mind calculating the odds of two people with only tangential connections who both had a rare physical abnormality, meeting up together on what was meant to be a blind date. He couldn’t come up with a concrete answer, only that it was weird. Weirdness? ‘ _Huh that is something someone might want to study one day_ ’, Ford thought offhandedly. He then let himself be swallowed up by the singing of David Bowie.


	14. Error

Ford sat behind the wheel of McGucket’s car, the other man had partied quite a lot during the concert. With him was Keri curled in his arms with her head nestled against his friend’s neck. He felt his eyes getting heavy as he stared ahead at the dark stretch of highway that led back to their small college town. He glanced over and Lynda was fast asleep, covered in the purchased t-shirts as a makeshift blanket. Ford tried to keep focused but his mind wandered as it was prone to do when confronted with nothing to truly stimulate him. He debated trying to wake up one of the others just so he could have someone to talk to, but no such luck. Faced with little other options, Ford turned to the most desperate of measures. He turned on the radio; putting himself at the mercy of whatever AM frequencies he could pick up. It took some scanning but finally he heard semi-clear voices, though static cut through now and again.

“ _This is Gr… Fal… radio. I am intrepid student reporter To…..mined. We are not alone in this wo… There are things out there you couldn’t even imagine. Weird th… that you would swear only exist in the movies."_ There was the shuffle of papers being tossed to the floor as the voice came back a little more distant, as if not facing the microphone anymore. " _One day, one day you too have your name up in lights. All I want to do is dance, not be a lousy journali-_ “

Ford turned off the radio as he figured it might be best to listen to the sounds of nature instead of some crazy nut job ranting for hours. Speaking of nature he felt a need to pull off the side of the road. No rest stops were for miles and he wasn’t going to wait until it was painful for his bladder. He left the car running so he’d still have some light to see by as he stepped off the side of the road and take care of business. He was trying to shake off the fatigue when he smelled something foul, and it wasn’t him he was sure. He tried to pinpoint it when he looked in front of him and he could have sworn he saw a massive shape in the darkness; it looked hairy and man like. His mind blanked out and he ran back to the car and slammed the door shut as he tried to get the car to drop into first gear. He heard a groan from next to him and he took Lynda by the shoulder and shook her.

“Wake up, I need your help.” Ford said urgently. She rubbed sleep from her eyes as she took in the lonely stretch of road before looking at him and her brows going up.

“I am afraid I totally ain’t that kind of girl.” She said with a wry smile on her face. Ford wondered what she was talking about when his face went bright red. He fixed his pants and shook his head.

“No, I was out in the bushes when I saw something, I don’t know what it was.” Ford tried to get her to listen to him.

“Oh so you want me to go with you out into the bushes, that is totally smart but I don’t think that is gonna happen. Sorry.” Lynda was being coy and Ford felt himself getting unreasonably upset.

“I am being serious, look… fine I’ll go back out myself.” Ford got out of the car and stormed back to confront whatever he had seen. He looked around but there was no sign of anything. He could have sworn. He started to look for tracks when rain started to sprinkle on him. He knew it would turn into a downpour and hurried back to the car. However as he went to get into the driver’s side he saw Fiddleford sitting behind the wheel.

“Stanford, you have been driving most of the night. Go ahead and get in the back, you need some rest.” McGucket said sympathetically. Ford saw that Lynda was staying in front as Keri sat in the middle of the bench seat next to his friend. Ford relented and sat in the back before trying to stretch out. Lynda was kind enough to toss him a shirt to roll up and use as a pillow. He tried to think if he had been really so tired that it was just an error on his part. But it couldn’t have been, that smell still clung to the inside of his nose. He rolled over and rested his eyes, intending to wake up and go to the library to see what information he could find on creatures in this area. He had an idea, but that was ridiculous… wasn’t it?


	15. Breakthrough

So Lynda never asked him on a second date, which was fine by Ford. He had explained what had happened to McGucket later and while he believed him that he saw something and that Lynda had painted a poor picture of Stanford, one that clashed with everything McGucket knew of him. He didn’t argue with his girlfriend about not wanting to come over though, and Ford understood that she believed her friend. However McGucket promised to sort things out… when it was possible.

There were more pressing things on his mind with his schooling. To him, a relationship was more trouble than it was worth and it would distract him from achieving his goals. He finally started to get an idea of what he wanted to specialize in; however it was not going to be easy. So as he hit the books more and more, he became withdrawn from the outside world. He began to miss meals more frequently and sleep was now a chore for him. It was nearing the end of the semester when McGucket’s concern outweighed his respect for Ford’s self-sufficiency.

“Stanford you are taking a break.” McGucket said as he flung open the curtains of the darkened dorm room to let light in. Ford had not seen him much he thought, he could not remember. The days were blurring together and he was ripped from thought as the intense light burned his corneas.

“I have to have this homework ready to turn in.” Ford said defensively as he looked at the work he had been in the middle of answering.

“Dagnabbit, I spoke with your instructors and they tell me you a month ahead of the class! That you haven’t had to come to lectures since you already know what they are going to be saying!” McGucket pulled Ford’s chair over to the window and then held up a mirror so he could look at himself. His hair had grown long and shaggy, his facial hair was patchy and showed signs where he had attempted to shave with a laser razor he had invented; beam was too unfocused to get close cut but it cooked his face meat pretty well.

“I… just was working.” Ford said confused as he focused on the dark circles under his eyes; he would have sworn he had been punched but he knew he hadn’t been anywhere near someone’s fists.

“Well you can put a cork in it, come on and get a shower. I’m taking you out with me and Keri. If she gets mad, well I’ll deal with it.” McGucket said bravely and Ford wanted to argue but stopped. Fiddleford was as close as family to him, and he knew he’d not hear the end of it.

“Thank you…” Ford said heartfelt and went to get cleaned up. He didn’t realize how bad he had smelled until he picked up his dirty clothes after to put in the laundry. Had he been wearing the same clothes for that many days? He had a limited wardrobe but… wow. He made a note that he’d have to either try variety for a change or get multiples of the same outfit.

“I got a hat for you to wear, until we can get you down to a barber. Your sideburns are turning into muttonchops.” McGucket laughed a little as he put trucker cap on Ford’s head. Ford looked in the mirror and wondered if anyone would look good with such a hat but it was better than letting his insane mane run free.

“Where were you going to go, and this isn’t another blind date scenario again right?” Ford said with serious trepidations.

“No no, I mean… we are going out to dinner and I am meeting her brother. So I figured I needed backup as well in case I am in trouble.” McGucket spoke chagrinned at needing help. Ford blinked tiredly but shrugged.

“I will do the best I can. Is Keri still mad at me for what happened?” Ford inquired very tentatively.

“Stanford, that was over a month ago… she’s still cagey as a possum in a chicken coop but by tonight she’ll be a regular Susie Q about you.” McGucket clapped him on the arm as Ford tried to figure out if that was a good thing or not. However he was happy to have any breakthrough with his friend’s romantic partner. Ford was believing they were a pack deal at this point. At least he hoped that would be the case. So he adjusted his cap and headed out on the town.


	16. Rudimentary

Ford had a cup of black coffee in order to stay awake, though it wasn’t as difficult as he was seated next to Keri’s brother, Michael. He was a large able bodied young man with messy brown hair and dark eyes, like seriously dark eyes. He was not sure if the man was upset at Fiddleford or trying to intimidate him, regardless; McGucket was tense as he carried on a conversation with Keri.

“So… erm Michael. What do you do for a living?” Fiddleford asked tentatively. He got no response from the man so Keri had to smack Michael’s arm to try and get him to quit. Ford noticed how the guy didn’t even flinch or blink.

“Michael, he asked you a question. Don’t be a jerk…” Keri waited before letting out an exasperated sigh. “He’s a regular jack of all trades. He’s done house painting, mechanic, interior designs, and electrical.”

“That is quite the resume, I’d love to pick your brain sometime.” Ford piped up, which earned him a look from Keri though he couldn’t quite make it out when the deepest voice he had ever heard came from Michael.

“Are you some kind of doctor?” Was all he said which made Ford smile slightly.

“I am hoping to become one.” Ford admitted proudly. He saw Keri trying her best to have a non-verbal conversation with him but he was far from the most astute when it came to such things. However he suddenly was sent flying out of the booth and across the gap to the next one. Ford picked up one cracked lens and looked through to see Michael standing over him. Ford flinched but he heard the man’s footsteps lead away.

“Are you alright Stanford?” McGucket was there and helped him get up and into their booth again. Ford’s glasses were broken right at the bridge which was not the easiest to fix, but due to being bullied as a kid for being different he had learned to do such repair jobs. His father would never be willing to shell out money to buy new ones or even refurbished frames.

“I think so… how bad does it look?” Ford said as he grabbed a spoon to look at his own distorted reflection. His cheek was already swelling up painfully. He hadn’t had that kind of look since boxing lessons as a kid. “What was his issue?” He directed towards Keri who seemed to be looking for an exit strategy herself.

“I… was trying to warn you. He has a thing against doctors, which I don’t entirely blame him for. He was a troubled kid and our parents… institutionalized him.” Keri explained sadly. “He never was the same after it. He retreated inside of himself, and there was one doctor who just kept going after him. Said he was just trying to help him, but I think he wanted to just make some money writing a book about how kids can just be born pure evil.” Fiddleford took her hand and squeezed it.

“I didn’t mean to affect him so, I was just making polite conversation.” Ford felt ashamed though still annoyed at how hard he had been socked. He took a napkin and some ice to press to his cheek.

“I would like him to apologize to my friend right now.” McGucket was doing his best to sound tough which wasn’t working out exactly as planned. Ford stood a good couple of inches above McGucket and Michael had been just a shy taller than Ford. Keri managed to get some sense in his head.

“Well the next time that you speak to your brother, extend my sympathies. I got treated differently as well for the longest time.” Ford then rubbed his jaw. “Also tell him he has a mean left hook.” This earned a smile out of Keri.

“You certainly took the hit better than others I have seen. One guy in high school I was going to go on a date with; his name was Ben Tramer, Michael hit him so hard you’d think he had died.” Keri laughed lightly. “He cares in his own way. I know he makes mistakes and more than once it has cost me a lot… but in the end he is my brother. And I love him for it.” She said wistfully. Ford did not know if it was a concussion or what but he saw a very close parallel with his own life that he did not entirely like. He drank some more coffee and kept his head down.

“Wow… did he tell you all that?” McGucket asked as he glanced over at Ford; he had some knowledge of what happened in New Jersey to his twin that Ford had spilled during some nights of inebriation

“Some of it, but I wouldn’t have found out if I hadn’t chosen to hear him out as he was trying to explain things to me.” Keri said forlorn and with that Ford stood up.

“I am going to head back to the dorm, I need to catch up on some sleep. You two enjoy your meal.” Ford tried to be friendly but his agitated tone bled through. He got outside and started off down the road, squinting to try and make out where it was a person or a street lamp. He was halfway to the campus when he felt like he was being followed. He turned around suddenly but saw nothing. His fight or flight reflexes were coming back to him after getting his head hit. He kept looking around though without his glasses it was a mostly futile effort. He turned back to face the way he was going when he saw the shape in front of him. He jumped almost out of his skin.

“Listen… I am sorry back there. It was uncalled for.” Michael said in a polite voice. “I have a history with doctors…”

“Your sister…” Ford was about to tell him that he already knew but he decided to let the man speak for himself if he was willing and able. The two headed back towards the campus, walking in the California dusk. Ford listened to him talk about his mental issues and how he had tried to cope with them, almost like he was putting on a mask to hide from the world. He found the man very brave for opening up, and though his own experience in the mental health field was rudimentary at best, he started to see how it could dehumanize people and make them seem like monsters or psychopaths. Ford realized that he might be able to communicate better if he didn’t assume so much.

They parted ways with Michael giving him a twenty to put towards a pair of new glasses. He went inside and wrote a note explaining what had happened before he pulled back the covers of the bed and pressed his sore cheek against the cool cotton of his pillowcase. He fell asleep and had a dream of talking to one of the monsters from that old Harry Claymore movie, **_The Voyages of Loinclothiclese_**. It was surreal but he was getting used to having weirder and weirder dreams.


	17. Facilitate

The semester wore on, Ford was not quite as wrapped up in his work as he had been but he was still leagues ahead of others. He was looking to complete what should have been two years of course work in one. It was considered monumental by the dean, and so he was being invited to an academic luncheon as a guest. Fiddleford was ecstatic on his behalf, which worked out as Ford was nervous as a cat in a rocking chair factory; he had spent far too much time listening to McGucket’s analogies he concluded.

“Should I wear a jacket or just the tie?” Ford asked as he stood in front of the mirror. He felt ill-suited for the hand shaking and smiling that brushing elbows with faculty often devolved into.

“I would say you will cut a sharper image with the jacket. But lose the tie since this isn’t a wedding or a funeral.” McGucket said critically as he pulled out a tweed jacket for Ford to put on. Ford was uncomfortable in it but relented.

“Are you sure? I might jump off a roof if I figure I’d survive. I just need to calculate what my impact velocity would be and whether this jacket wil-…” Ford was hushed by McGucket’s hand followed by a friendly pat on the cheek.

“You can handle this. I believe in you Ford.” McGucket said and Ford felt his chest react weird as his heart jumped at the praise. Ford gave his friend a hug and they parted. Ford made his way across campus; receiving a few appreciative looks from his peers. He walked into the Academic administration building. It was, like much of the school, hadn’t been updated since the forties. He saw yellowed poster talking about ‘ _Sticking it to Hitler_ ’ with a cartoon caricature of the dictator with a rifle under his nose. Not too far off from the mark he concluded as he went up the stairs to the waiting area for the dean’s office as instructed. He knew that it was going to take place in a meeting room down the hall but the dean had wanted a word with him beforehand. Ford looked at the positively ancient looking woman with blue grey hair in the biggest beehive hairdo he had ever seen.

“Mr. Pines here to see the Dean.” Ford said politely and waited for the response. She slowly hunted and pecked at her typewriter and Ford wondered if she was hard of hearing. “I said, Mr. Pines here to see the Dean?” He increased his volume slightly. He still got no response. “Mr. Pines! Here to se-!”

“You don’t need to shout at me young man, I heard you.” The secretary snapped at him and looked pointedly at him. Ford’s face immediately went as red as the blush she used; which looked to have the consistency of brick dust. He sat down and waited patiently. Eventually she buzzed the dean to let him know and the man came out, looking a bit haggard with some old fashioned hearing aids sticking out of his ears.

“HOW ARE YA DOIN’ SPORT! COME ON IN. THANK YOU DOTTY, YOU ARE LOOKING AS BEAUTIFUL AS EVER!” The Dean spoke in a loud voice, clearly unable to hear himself talk.

“I’m Stanford Pines, sir. You wanted to meet me?” Ford asked, trying to speak in a normal tone but annunciate where the man could read his mouth movements, however the man didn’t seem to be paying attention.

“YOU’RE STANFORD PINES RIGHT? I HAVE HEARD GOOD THINGS AND WANTED TO MEET YOU. I’M DOCTOR DAVID COLE.” He took Ford’s hand and shook it aggressively. “WOW SIX FINGERS, THAT’S QUITE THE ACCOMPLISHMENT, I ONLY MANAGED TO GROW FIVE MYSELF.” Ford was not sure if the man was being serious or if he was goofing around.

“I was born this way, it is a rather unique anomaly as I have a twin, and usually polydactyly is a genetic condition yet he only has five fingers.” Ford said politely and looked around.

“I KNOW, I SAID FIVE.” Doctor Cole repeated. Ford realized how annoying this was going to be.

“So what did you want to see me about, sir?” Ford spoke up louder and it seemed to get through the man’s atrocious hearing.

“YOU SHOW SIGNS OF BEING ONE OF OUR MOST BRIGHTEST PUPILS, A REAL NUCLEUR FIREBALL. I WANTED TO CONGRATULATE YOU ON THAT AND SHOW OFF SOME OF THE OTHER PROFFESSORS YOU WILL BE MEETING IN YOUR TIME TO COME.”

“I understand, also it is nuclear, not ‘nucleur’.” Ford said instinctively before realizing he had just corrected the dean of the college. However the man either accepted it or didn’t notice. What followed was an excruciating ten minutes of conversation before Doctor Cole looked at his watch.

“HOT DOGS MY SOCKS ARE ON FIRE, WE ARE ALMOST LATE!” Cole exclaimed and motioned for Ford to come with him as they went back out where Ford had to witness the exaggerated thrown kiss to the secretary and her almost schoolgirl-ish reaction. Ford was wondered what kind of people he was dealing with for what seemed to be the thousandth time. However Doctor Cole moved to the meeting room door which was opened and shut it, Ford was about to question when he opened the door once more with a flourish to facilitate their arrival in dramatic fashion. “AFTERNOON EVERYONE, I’D LIKE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO STANFORD PINES, THE SMARTEST KID IN THIS ROOM!”

Ford stood there awkwardly; well aware of the target that the man just painted on him in the biggest and boldest red possible. He should have gone ahead with his plan to jump off the roof.


	18. Transmission

Ford was not sure what he had expected at an academic luncheon; a bunch of snooty old men discussing ideas and laughing at the frivolities of youth? Well he wasn’t far off, there was just a lot more drinking involved. He checked his watch and it read five past one in the afternoon, yet here they were exchanging their ideas on the what newfangled technology would do to the minds of the youth while sipping from martini glasses and tumblers. Ford had gotten a cup of seltzer water and added a slice of lime to it and hopefully pass it off as a cocktail. He did what he did best and clung to the outside like a bead of sweat. He passed by a couple of English professors who seemed to exceptions to the friendly drinking as they looked more than a little drunk seven drinks ago. One was Shockley, and the other he thought he heard him say Morrance, or was it something similar? Either way the second one seemed to take a shining to Ford and told him he saw he had the making of a doctor, and raised his glass instructing him to ‘take his medicine’. Ford politely moved away at the first chance and ran right smack into the mathematician Doctor Malcolm.

“Well well if it isn’t the smartass from New Jersey. How goes your side show business?” The man asked antagonistically. “Just because the idiot dean thinks you are hot stuff, doesn’t mean that you are fit to walk among the giants here. So hit the road Jack.”

“Professor Malcolm, how good to see you.” Ford said coolly as he looked at the veins starting to pop in the man’s neck. “I am glad that you remember me. I was under the impression no one was worthy, but I am honored to be so memorable.” Ford did not know if he was growing more bold or if he just didn’t fear the pencil neck after getting hit by the biggest man he had ever seen.

However this set off Malcolm who grabbed Ford by the jacket. “You little co-“

“MALCOLM MY BOY, HOW’S IT GOING! HAVE I EVER TOLD YOU THAT YOU REMIND ME OF A LITTLE MEXICAN CHIHUAHUA?” Doctor Cole was there smiling and shouting as usual. “I JUST HAD THE MOST THRILLING CONVERSATION WITH ONE MRS CARRIETTA WHITE, SHE’S THE TYPE OF GAL YOU WISH YOU KNEW A LITTLE LATIN TO SPEAK WITH, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?” He noticed the pair in close proximity. “DOCTOR MALCOLM I SEE YOU’VE MET MR PINES, ISN’T HE JUST THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE SHED YOU’VE EVER KNOWN?”

“Yeah, he’s a real tool.” Malcolm muttered before letting go of Ford and then storming off.

“WONDER IF HE HAS A BLADDER ISSUE, YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL WHEN YOU GET UP IN AGE. I SHOULD KNOW.” Cole beamed cluelessly. “ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF, SON?” The Dean asked with a clap on Ford’s shoulder.

“Yes sir, having a great time. But speaking of restroom, I ought to go.” Ford jerked his thumb out at the doors.

“YOU DID WHAT TO A GOAT?” Doctor Cole asked confused, but Ford didn’t linger to try and correct him. He instead caught up with Malcolm and called after him.

“Doctor Malcolm, I forgot something really important.” Ford said breathlessly as he ran to catch him. “Something I said before I left your class.”

“What could possibly be important from a dumbass li-“ Malcolm berated before being caught off guard by a punch square in the middle of his smug face. The professor tumbled backwards and looked around cross eyed.

“I told you I’d hit you the next time I saw you, bastard.” Ford said proudly before he walked over the professor and hurried out of the building. He was halfway across the concourse when he realized what he had done. He sat down on the nearest bench and wondered if he had just thrown his academic career in the toilet over a petty grudge? That was something Stanley would do, not him. He briefly considered concocting a wild story of how his brother had shown up at the school, dressed up as him and attended a function in his place only to assault a teacher. He found that far-fetched, he wasn’t even sure Stanley could do that passable of an impression of him. The extent was making him sound a robot.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a familiar face with two toned eyes. “Heya Ford, you totally look lost.” Lynda said with a dry smirk.

“I just was at an academic luncheon and punched a teacher in the face and called him a bastard. So yeah I guess I am.” Ford did not know why he was speaking to her or even why she was speaking to him considering their semi-disastrous ending to their ‘date’.

“Ouch, that totally sounds like a problem. Don’t think that will look good on your record.” She sat down on the bench and looked at him. “I don’t think tweed suits you.” Ford blinked at her non sequitur.

“No I don’t think so either. Do you think black and white stripes would look good on me?” Ford asked bemused thinking of all the all that the professor might try to get his hands on to hunt him down.

“No, I totally don’t see you looking good in that. But I think I might have something in my room you can wear.” Lynda said and took his hand to pull him to his feet as she guided him away.

“Wait what… I don’t know what you…” Ford then saw her look at him suggestively and he pulled back. “I thought you weren’t interested in me like that… that I…” Ford was confused and unsure what exactly was happening anymore. He completely lost the plot.

“I was annoyed, but I was more worried that you were going crazy. I was teasing you more or less, but Keri thought I was being a lot more serious.” Lynda laughed but Ford was still uneasy. He tried to pick up on any subtle transmission that she might be broadcasting but it was pretty much dead silence. He could follow her to her room and possibly do something he had only heard about or he could go back to his dorm and pack his bags to go on the run, or simply sit down on the bench again and wait for the police to pick him up. He considered the options heavily before turning to go sit back down.

“If this is the way things are, I did what I did and will take my lumps.” Ford explained as he sat down. Lynda rolled her eyes and muttered something before taking off. Ford relaxed and waited for the sound of sirens. By the time the sun started to set he began to wonder what had happened. So he got up and went to his dorm he found McGucket looking worried. Ford wondered what had happened in the time he was gone.


	19. Dissection

“What happened?! I hadn’t heard from you at all, and then I got a call from Keri saying accusing me of… cheating on her.” McGucket was half beside himself with uncertainty and fear.

“What?” Ford asked and took his friend’s hand. McGucket jerked it from his grasp and looked sharply at Ford.

“Stanford… we are friends right? And if I ask you something, you’ll be honest with me?” McGucket asked looking at him as if he were a snake he wasn’t sure was venomous or not.

“Fiddleford, you are frightening me. What is all this about?” Ford said taking a step towards him only for the smaller man to leap back.

“Answer me, will you be honest with me?” Their eyes met and Ford nodded solemnly. “Are… are you… Ham on a sandwich… Are you attracted to me? Or in love with me?” McGucket asked pained at the accusation he had to make. This caught Ford completely off guard.

“W-what? Your girlfriend thinks that… why would…” Ford’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “Lynda… she… That… I need to speak to her immediately.” Ford wheeled around looked for something to grab. “McGucket, I need your tool box… where is it at?”

This time McGucket was asking confused. “What do you need with my tool box… wait no, you aren’t going to be go causing a ruckus and acting a plum idiot.” Fiddleford grabbed onto Ford.

“She is out looking to punish you because I turned her down. She is… I don’t know…” Ford growled and tried to shake his friend off of him but he was squirrely and got him around the neck.

“Why does it matter so much to you?!” McGucket asked as he hung on for dear life.

“Because… you matter to me. Our friendship… our…” Ford stopped fighting and sank to his knees to let McGucket off his back.

“I care about you too, and… I just didn’t want you to be hurt…” McGucket said and leaned against the wall.

“I am hurt… hurt because your happiness was put in jeopardy.” Ford explained and leaned against the foot of his bed. “I had a really rough day and then I come home to find you… panicking.” Ford ran through everything that had happened, during the conversation McGucket got out a bottle of clear liquid and gave Ford a small portion to sip. It still tasted like it smelled, pure alcohol.

“You have no luck when it comes to women, I guess that is why she thought you might be…” McGucket paused and took a drink.

“Gay?” Ford finished for him. “Yeah my family is wondering that too.” He finished his glass and held it out for McGucket to refill him.

“What about you? Do you wonder?” Fiddleford was tentative.

“If I am… I don’t know. I find people attractive but… I don’t have that desire to go looking for anything. Is that weird? Am I just a window shopper?” Ford mused exasperated. However McGucket found that hilarious.

“I am not laughing at you, I just… that is a good line.” He giggled and drank some more.

“I am glad I can be such a comedic presence. Please, call me a regular Buster Keaton.” Ford tried to sound bitter but he grinned slightly.

“If that’s who you are, then it is who you are.” McGucket raised his jar in a toast. Ford looked at his cup and clinked it with Fiddleford.

“To who we are.” Ford cheered. He wondered what that meant for him, to never know love the way normal people did. He furrowed his brow and looked at McGucket. He tried to see if he truly did feel anything for him. But it was just the same admiration and friendship. He tried to remember what he had felt when he looked at Cathy, and all he had pictured was her holding his hand. Had it just been companionship he wanted? He felt alone so much, even with close friends. Was that was his fate, to never feel whole?

He did not like this dissection of self and opted to drink some more. Fiddleford got up to go talk to Keri about what happened and explain to her in no uncertain terms that Ford was his friend, and that was something people would just have to accept. They were a package deal. Ford had been part of a package deal once, until the other half had been forced to leave. Ford felt a deep stabbing fear in his chest as he wondered if he would do the same to Fiddleford, cut him out and get rid of him? He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he saw McGucket enter and Ford met his friend’s eyes. They were so kind and brilliant. He wanted to look in them and draw strength from them. They said their goodnights and Ford crawled in bed thinking about Fiddleford, and remembered the feeling when they had been in the woods and he had taken his hand. The calloused fingers and the warmth that had made him feel at ease. He wanted to feel that again, and maybe something more. Ford opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. “Uh-oh…”


	20. Attraction

So Ford was in trouble, some deep trouble that he never thought possible. He might be a little sort of… really infatuated with his roommate. This was after assuring him that he was not and was unsure if he could even feel such a thing. Now here he was at the beach with said roommate and his girlfriend. If there was any sort of silver lining in this, Lynda was nowhere in sight and he was not wanted by the police. He was not sure what happened to Doctor Malcolm but there was little talk of the acidic professor. So either he was tight lipped about it or no one cared.

“Heads up Stanford!” McGucket’s voice called out and Ford looked up long enough to dive below the Frisbee that was sailing right at him. It continued on its path down the beach. “Aww c’mon that think ain’t slicker than a snake wearing a raincoat, you had it.” His friend decried at Ford’s choosing of self-preservation.

“Why are you even throwing it my way?” Ford asked and brushed sand from his swimming trunks that had not even touched the water.

“To hopefully get you off your keister and enjoy today?” Keri ribbed him and ran after the disc before an errant hound decided it was their chew toy.

“We just wanted to make today special for ya.” Fiddleford said and plopped down on the towel next to Ford. Ford withdrew into himself more. “Sorry for having to go about it in such an underhanded way.” McGucket said a little shamefaced but still grinning like a loon. Ford was kicking himself over being deceived so easily, he was certain his brother would be laughing at him. McGucket had sent him to Keri’s gas station to pick up some chewing tobacco one evening and she had fed him a line about her manager cracking down on them checking ID’s. Well he handed his over and he should have known from her smile then that something was up. But he was clueless until this morning when he woke up to Fiddleford and her shouting surprise and having his favorite breakfast made. Apparently they had gotten in touch with his mother to find out that information. All for his birthday.

He had not intended on celebrating it this year, or really any year ever again. It felt so weird to do it without the family, the whole family. He had made a call to his mother who serenading him over the phone, and he was pretty sure he was going crazy as he thought he heard his father singing in the background too. Twenty years old. It was apparently a big year, though he was not sure he agreed with it. But it meant he was technically not a teen anymore. “You guys are doing fine, I am just… family stuff.” He said looking at Fiddleford; he was not an impressive physical presence but there was just something so… cute about him.

“Shucks, we ought to be close enough to family I hope.” McGucket nudged him. “Now come on and get some sun, otherwise I am going to make you dress up as Dracula for the Halloween party this year.”

“You couldn’t get me to dress up last year.” Ford said with a slight smile.

“Touché, but no need to be a jerk about it.” This got them laughing until the plastic disc bounced off Ford’s head.

“Oww! Why didn’t you say anything?” Ford rubbed his head and Keri knelt down and pecked the side of his head before tousling his hair.

“There feel better you dork, come into the water or else Fiddelford will make a tre-bucket.” Keri threatened.

“It is called a _trebuchet_ darling.” McGucket said before he got hit with a spare towel. “I deserved that.”

Ford finally relented and went into the water with them. It was fun as they played Chicken, though Ford was on his own team as he was tall enough to stand even against the two of them together. “You need to build some sort of giant robot to stand a chance against me.” Ford said in a faux mocking voice.

“I will have plans drawn before the sun sets.” McGucket assured him. They had fun and when the sun settled behind the sand dunes they built a bonfire to dry off by. Ford was simply amazed how different the West coast was from his home East coast. The shores were night and day in terms of looks and texture. Ford sank his six fingers into the fine sand. He laid back and opened his eyes to see the young couple making out, Ford felt a pang of… Sadness? Envy? Longing? He was not sure but he tried to take his mind off of things and got up to walk along the tideline, looking for any shells that caught his attention.

He glanced out at the water and for a moment he thought he saw someone before a fish body dove under. Must have been a dolphin or something like that. Right? He was not sure as he watched more closely but nothing surfaced again. “I might want to start making a list of these sort of things.” He mused before Ford heard a giggle beyond some rocks. He tilted his head to the side and went to investigate. He heard whispered voices, though they did not sound normal; there was a slight gurgle to them. He slipped on a rock slightly and froze wondering if he had made any noise. He then clambered over the rock, cutting his hand on some barnacles as he went only to see nothing and no one. Well not nothing entirely, he saw markings in the saw as if something slid from it into the water. He turned back and went to the water to wash his hand, hissing at the stinging. He saw his blood staining the water and wondered if it might cause something to show up. He knew that sharks had an attraction to blood, meaning there was a weakened prey. He wondered what other predators might be drawn to blood in that way. Ford felt the last of the sunlight disappear and he could not help but wonder about Fiddleford’s Dracula wisecrack. Vampires were creatures who were drawn to blood, but they weren’t real. Were they? He could not be certain as people didn’t really study that sort of thing, well legitimate scientists did not. But what if they did? He pondered that as he went back to the bonfire where he’d have to tangle with his own emotions along with his thoughts.


	21. Conduct

Summer work; Ford was not happy that he could not try to squeeze in summer classes as his father had cut off all financial support until fall semester. As far as Filbrick was concerned Ford needed to learn to survive on his own. Ford was surviving perfectly well if one didn’t notice how his belt had some new holes punched in to make it tighter. He supposed he could go back home for the break and see family but he did not want too many reminders of his old life. So he stood at the student success center where the job board was at for people looking for an extra buck. It was refreshed daily and had better prospect than the newspaper; the wanted ads were… unusual to say the least in the experience.

“ _SWF seeking partner(s) for company position in exploring new realms of P &P, call number below and be ready to read off prior history in a slow and firm voice._”

He had gotten interested as he thought it was a scientific group, and the woman who had answered was excited by his enthusiasm until he explained his physical condition, questioning what ‘six fingers was code for’. She hung up shortly after once he got into the nitty gritty about polydactyly. He had avoided the papers, though he had seen some tabloids talking about a Sasquatch that was seen around where Route 99 and Interstate 5 merged together. The same path he had been driving that night in March. He wondered if it was true or just a coincidental hoax? He could not say for certain but he felt a bit of validation.

“You still looking for work?” Came a voice which jerked Ford from his thoughts. He looked at the office worker who began to pin the names of companies and phone numbers to call to set up an interview.

“Oh… yes ma’am. I haven’t had much luck.” Ford explained feeling more than a little of a failure for having so little in terms of success. He had tried to replicate the winter break job; he had been unable to fulfill his obligation due to his injury though the professor was understanding enough with how he had sustained it to not blackball him from ever working again, but the professor went with a young woman who was a lot more diligent it sounded like.

“Well, I don’t normally do this, but you look like you need the help. There is a construction crew needing a signalman, here is the address of the job site. Go there now and by the time you get there I should have called to put in a good word.” The older woman smiled as she put a piece of paper in his hand and Ford went slack jawed.

“How… why… you… I don’t think I can thank you enough.” Ford said and went up to… he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug her, shake her hand, or kiss her cheek in gratitude.

“Uh-nuh, I said go there now.” She warned and Ford nodded before looking at the note before hurrying off. He ran two blocks before finally slowing down. He caught his breath as he walked up to the construction site and then right to the door of the trailer that served as the foreman’s office. He knocked on the door and heard a gruff voice answer.

“Come in.” Ford did as he was bade and walked right into a wall of smoke. It stung his eyes and made his nose burn. He tried to pass off a cough as just clearing his throat as he went up to the desk of the rotund and sweaty foreman who was chewing on a stogie while puffing away. “You that college boy?” He asked, a heavy Midwestern accent.

“Yes sir I am, I am ready to work right away.” Ford said, standing up straight with his hands behind his back.

“You ever do this kind of work before?” The foreman asked before waving it off, knowing from sight that Ford clearly hadn’t done this type of job. “Grab a hardhat and a vest. Go see the crew chief and he’ll put you where he needs you. Around lunchtime I’ll need you to sign some paperwork.” Ford reached to shake the foreman’s hand who looked at him pointedly. “That doesn’t look like grabbing a hardhat and a vest, you deaf or something kid?” Ford hurried to do as he was told, ears turning red from being chewed out already. He went up to the person who was holding a clipboard lazily.

“Are you the crew chief?” Ford asked tentatively, the man looked to be in his thirties and due to sun exposure he had the complexion of an old leather sofa.

“Yeah, you the signal man Red was looking for?” The chief had a voice like a rock tumbler and stunk of sweat.

“Yes sir, Ford Pines.” He said curtly, trying to not let it slip how intimidated he was.

“Chevy.” He said and reached over to grab a pole with two signs on the one end facing opposite directions. “You’re a college boy, so I don’t need to explain too much. Stand over by those far cones. If you see people coming and we are moving stuff, Stop them. If it is clear, tell them to come Slow.” He handed it over and clapped Ford’s hard hat. “Get out there and if you think you are about to pass out from dehydration… don’t.”

“Yes sir.” Ford said wondering why no one else had taken this job. It seemed easy enough and he assumed it paid decent, and it surely beat working in a restaurant cleaning dishes or tables. However as the sun got higher he realized why people didn’t want it. It was California summer, and he stood in a place with no shade wearing a plastic bucket on his head. Needless to say he got hot. He had to strip down to his undershirt and tie his long sleeve around his waist and still he was baking. He saw his arms turn a livid red and knew he’d be sunburnt; it reminded him of his summers back home just wandering the beach. He kicked himself slightly for not going to see it during that winter visit, but he knew he had good reason to walk where the ghosts of his past might be the strongest. He finally heard a whistle blow and looked to see the crew chief motioning to him.

“Come on and get something to drink and eat.” Chevy said and waited for Ford to walk over. He saw Ford’s arms and told him to put the shirt back on but roll up the sleeves and leave it unbuttoned, “… otherwise you are going to roast, at least you can catch some of the breeze with your shirt open. Besides, show off those couple of chest hairs. We’ll make a man out of you yet.” He joked and smacked Ford’s slightly burnt back, making his gasp in pain. Which only made the guys laugh even more. Ford went away from the unruly conduct to sign the paperwork and finalize his position. He did the math in his head and knew he’d have enough left over to pay for some night classes during the summer. Though part of him said to be cautious and just wait so he had a safety net in case something happened. What could go wrong on a dangerous construction site? He remembered his arm and figured it would not be a terrible idea to err on the side of caution.


	22. Eruption

Work was difficult but manageable. Ford began to find a niche where his great intellect was able to be put to use. The foreman, Red, was not a man who moved quickly; he would move at the speed of an extra thick maple syrup that sat in the ice box all night. So it fell on Chevy to do a lot of the moving and shaking, and the only reason why Chevy was not where Red was at was he had done some time in San Quentin five years back. At least this is what Ford was able to gather from conversation. So much of the equipment was in poor condition since the requests for repairs needed to be done in a timely manner and Red was anything but. Ford had gotten a look at the slapdash work the other workers had done and knew it was only a matter of time before things failed in a spectacular and devastating fashion. So one weekend he came up with McGucket’s truck and McGucket himself to do some off-hours work.

“You sure you’re gonna get overtime for this?” Fiddleford asked skeptically.

“Of course, and I will be sure to give you a cut for helping me out. They don’t know you are here with me, but I know you are better at this than I am.” Ford said, mixing truth with lies to keep McGucket from being apt to turn and leave. They hadn’t had much time where it was just them, most times Keri was there. It wasn’t that Ford disliked McGucket’s girlfriend, he just… he still found himself feeling weird.

“Color my cornmeal, you weren’t kidding. This is barely high school workshop level.” McGucket looked over the equipment and took off his over shirt to lay on the ground so he could slip under the tractor and inspect it. Ford slammed his chest to get it beating in a normal rhythm again. He was being so stupid, sure Fiddleford had a very attractive quality to him when he got sweaty and dirty from his mechanical talent, but there was no reason to fawn over him. Especially since he knew for a fact that this was just some temporary insanity on his part, it would pass right? “Stanford! Can you hand me the socket wrench and a 3/8ths socket. Red toolbox left side.”

Ford jerked from his inner thoughts and started his work as the go-fer, a term he had never known the name for but was familiar with the task it entailed ‘go-fer this part, go-fer that tool’. “You sure you don’t need a 10mm?” Ford called back and grabbed both just to be safe.

“Yeah go ahead and… oh thank you.” McGucket said as Ford put the sockets in his friend’s outstretched hand. “You really are the best assistant I’ve ever had.” He said with a grin.

“Assistant? I am afraid you are mistaken, I am paying you. So you work for me.” Ford retorted, feeling a little put off at the demeaning title of assistant.

“Spoken like a true manager, but where would you be without me?” Fiddleford snarked and held out his hand. “Crescent wrench.” Ford grabbed it and put it in McGucket hand, but he let his hand stay there for half a second, just… just something to get him through the day. He heard a slight note of embarrassment in his friend’s voice. “You seen somethin’ crawling on me?”

“Huh? Oh sorry I was… looking at the radiator grill… I think I see gum holding the fan in place.” Ford said stilted and then went to work on another piece of equipment. It took them most of the day but they got a good portion of the equipment in as good as new or in some cases with Fiddleford’s expertise; better than new condition. They decided to stop by the gas station so McGucket could see Keri and they could buy some drinks. Ford had gone to wash his hands up somewhat in the restroom but had turned to see the couple teasing each other. Ford washed his hands and glanced into the smudged mirror.

“ _Look at yourself, you know I was right to think you were a fairy.”_ Filbrick’s voice spoke from the inside of Ford’s head. “ _I ought to take the lid of the crapper and beat ya silly with it, knock those ideas outta yer big brain, you need to focus on getting us rich and not fantasizing._ ”

“But… what if I can be happy?” Ford felt the question rise from inside of him, a sliver of hope.

“ _You see how he looks at her, what makes ya think he’d give up her for you?_ ” Mind-Filbrick jeered. Ford’s eyes began to sting and he absently wiped at them only to look up and see he had given himself raccoon eyes. He snorted with laughter that then without warning became an eruption of tears that cut through the grease and dirt. He sat down on the dirty bathroom floor and blindly swiped at the faucet to create a barrier of noise for anyone who might listen in so they could not catch his sobs.


	23. Coordinate

Ford kept some distance between him and McGucket for the next few weeks; hoping that like a flame, depriving those illogical and insane impulses of any fuel, it would cause them to die out. He was desperate for any type of relief from the nervousness, the sweaty palms, and the self-loathing. His time at work was improving slightly; seems that Chevy had taken a keen interest in Ford’s intelligence and had his suspicions that the equipment’s refurbishment was nothing an average city worker would be able to accomplish over the weekend.

“So, you won’t have an official license but what Mr. City Planning won’t be seeing can’t hurt his pockets none.” Chevy grinned and watched as Ford whipped the backhoe around and planted its stabilizers, both of which now actually worked and didn’t require someone hanging off the side to get it moving. Ford took control of the boom and dipper to dig up some cracked road for the expansion project. Ford wasn’t sure why it needed expanding but if they didn’t spend all of their tax money this year, well next year they might not get as much. “Just don’t dig too deep, don’t need the phone company to come raise a complaint because of a little backhoe fade!” The crew chief yelled over the sound of the engine

“Backhoe fade?” Ford shouted back and when he was motioned to shut it off he listened to the explanation.

“You know how if it is raining, the telephone signal is a little weak? Well, we are a little more forceful than some light showers.” Chevy laughed and clapped Ford’s back before leaving Ford to his work. It was hard not to grin like a kid playing with a particularly big toy, he wondered if he’d of been picked on nearly as much if he drove along the beach making sand castles in this monster. He paused thinking if Stanley might be working a similar job wherever he was. Then he realized how ridiculous that idea was, not that Stanley couldn’t operate the machinery, but there was no way he’d let someone tell him to do it. Ford then chastised himself for thinking of that idiot. He wouldn’t be having to do this if he had gotten into West Coast Tech.

“Rotten jerk…” Ford muttered and his childlike glee was replaced by bitterness and resolute. He finished out his day and picked up his check for the previous week’s pay as he left to deposit in in his account. He walked around the park and found a patch of birch trees to sit in the limited shade of. He tried to close his eyes but he had a nagging feeling that someone was watching him. He glanced around but saw no people, so he shut eyes again and tried to distance his mind from the world. He felt watched even more nakedly and for the briefest of moments thought he heard his childhood nickname shouted from somewhere. He looked around and saw no one around him. He suddenly felt aching all over, especially in his hands and knees. He was about to close his eyes to push down that pain when he glanced at a pattern in the white bark, it was an exceptionally detailed eye, except instead of a round pupil it was slim and narrow. He got a feeling in his stomach like it did a gold medalist gymnastic routine. He got up stiffly and that was when he noticed that all of the trees had similar markings around him. He glanced upward saw the bruised sky above him, they had not called for rain until the next day, but it must have moved ahead. Was it really dusk? Had he fallen asleep? He was confused and not feeling particularly liked he wanted to go back to his place and be cooped up with Fiddleford. That was the opposite of what he had been trying to do. So not having much choice and feeling dehydrated, he decided to go to a bar and hide out there for a while as he cleared his head.

The air was stale with old spilled beer and stronger spirits soaked into the wood. He felt so alien there, did he truly have no place he belonged? There had to be a place fit for a freak like him. Not only was he physically unnatural but he was internally different. Was it all just some cruel sick joke? Well he didn’t find it very funny. He leaned on the counter and listened to din of the TV, John Boy on the Waltons was being his aloof self again. Ford rubbed the bridge of his nose and saw the signal fade in and out; the rain must have hit finally. He didn’t want to walk home in the storm but it was better than nothing. His coordination was not most steady after… how much did he drink? Ford thought he saw… blehventeen glasses on the counter, but that number did not seem right… or real. He stumbled as he reached for the door but it opened and some hands came up to steady him. He blinked and looked at the face of the one who had got him, only for him to see it was Fiddleford.

“Where the cockamamie heck have you been?! I’ve looked everywhere for you, it’s been a day since you were last seen!” McGucket said and pulled him close.

“What?” Ford was taken aback, and felt like he was falling though with his friend’s arms around him he wasn’t going anywhere.


	24. Dilation

They climbed in McGucket’s truck and Ford leaned against the window as he listened to forced exclaim and explain what had happened during Ford’s missing period, which felt so strange as he was not even aware he had anything missing, which as he thought about it more, if he had been aware of it then it wouldn’t exactly be missing then would it? He thought of the patch of birch trees and all of those eyes, had he done that?

“Stanford! Please for all that is good in this world, listen to me!” Fiddleford slammed his hand on the dashboard which looked painful from how his winced and bit his lip to keep himself from cursing like a sailor. Ford however was distracted by the way Ford looked; he had not shaved so that stubble was thick on his chin, would it be okay to touch it? His alcohol addled brain was making thoughts difficult as he was to swim after coherent moments.

“I am listening, I am just… not sure what happened. I went for a walk and sat down by some trees. I closed my eyes, opened them because… my eyes closed and then I was still there. I saw… the weather and went to get a drink.” Ford explained, not wanting to divulge what had been on his mind between the craziness of his attraction and the insanity of the strange feelings and the voice he had heard.

“You are hidin’ something from me Stanford, please… we’re friends. I know something is going on… you’ve been withdrawn, moody, distant, and now you disappear for a day with little to no explanation only to show up and go to a bar. Are you… are you on drugs? It is okay, I mean we’ve experimented but I am worried it is more serious. What is it?” Fiddleford was very concerned and he reached out his hand for Ford to take, only when he attempted to McGucket had to pull it away to jerk the wheel to avoid an idiot driving like crazy on the stormy roads. He laid on the old horn which sounded almost cartoonish. He yelled out of his window and then rolled it back up.

“No it isn’t drugs. I just… I don’t want to mess things up any more than I have.” Ford admitted and looked to see the water running down the passenger window. He put his hand on the glass and removed it as the heat caused a faint outline to show up on the glass in fog.

“You won’t ruin anything, we have each other for a reason. I think there is just some weird force that wanted us to have crossed paths. But our friendship is a bond that can’t be broken. We are tighter than two June bugs caught in a spider web.” McGucket said proudly. Ford took a deep breath and took his friend’s hand.

“I love you Fiddleford.” Ford said as plainly as he could, though he still slurred slightly.

“I love ya too Stanford, you are like a brother to me.” There was a sweetness to his voice that almost broke Ford’s heart as he repeated with emphasis and adjusted wording.

“No, I am **_in_** love with you Fiddleford.” Ford’s eyes stung as his friend turned his head so sharply to stare at him. Neither could speak a word and Ford felt his eyes water as everything seemed so blindly bright in the cab. He wondered what was going on when he saw the source of the brightness right over Fiddleford’s shoulder as an eighteen wheeler seemed to come out of nowhere. Time seemed to be stretched out like a piece of taffy as the front of semi slammed into Fiddleford’s truck on the driver’s side. All of the windows shattered from the force of the blow. The steel body of the old truck did not yield but it was vastly outweighed so it was sent flying. Ford desperately tried to grab something but something in his brain clicked and he went completely slack. He bounced a little but he did not tense up and get seriously hurt. The same could not be said for McGucket who tried to keep himself oriented and jerked the wheel as if it would save them.

They landed with a world rending bang and Ford looked around stiffly, he moved his body a little in a shimmy for signs of anything broken in his body. He was fine for the most part it seemed. However he heard the slow plonk of something falling into a puddle and it did not sound like the rain on the truck. He narrowed his eyes; his glasses were long gone and he saw Fiddleford hanging there from his seat, his steering wheel was cracked and from his big nose came the dripping of blood, but as he moved closer he saw there was more his skin was split on his forehead from where it busted the steering wheel. Ford reached out and touched the cold and clammy skin of his friend’s stubbly cheek. “ _Stay with me… please._ ” He whispered and begged for any help from anyone so as to not lose this person he was bound to in their own weird way. Voices filled the area as he stayed by Fiddleford's side.


	25. Calibration

Ford hated this, hated being confined to a separate room as his best friend was in surgery to relieve the swelling of his brain against his skull. Ford had gotten in touch with Keri; he neglected to say what had distracted Fiddleford to cause him to get hit. So Ford lied and put the blame on the other driver. But it was his own damn fault. He had no explanation available for where he had been for those missing thirty two hours, and deflected by asking her to come with a change of clothes for him as well as a spare set of glasses. His clothes had been messy with McGucket’s blood so once they put him in his own room he changed into a gown and had them put in a brown paper bag with his other effects. He debated calling his mother and let her know he was safe but that… The tears came again as fear laid its icy skeletal fingers on his heart.

“Mister Pines?” A worker called as she knocked on the door and came inside with a tray of food. Ford quickly wiped his eyes and nose with his sleeve as he sat back in bed.

“Yes, that is me.” Ford said trying to hide the warble of strained emotions in his voice as he fixed his bedding. She set the tray on the roll around table and slid it over to him. He lifted off the lid and looked at the bland smelling food and only a miniscule amount of seasoning packets to try and make it palatable. However he pushed it aside and laid back as he waited for Keri to arrive. He got sick of waiting after five minutes and got up. He pulled on a robe over his gown so that his bare butt didn’t flash everyone he went passed. He made his way to the ICU waiting area and let the nurse in charge know who he was waiting on updates for. He felt his stomach knot up like a bundle of eels. He pressed his thumb to the center of his forehead. He was desperate to remember what had caused such a dramatic fugue state. He had not been heavily drugged and he had absolutely no signs of head trauma. It was just as if he was plucked from one time and reappeared later in the same spot. He started to feel like he was making progress when he heard a voice.

“The McGucket family?” The surgeon was wearing slightly stained scrubs and he looked weary. Ford got to his feet right away and went to find out everything that he could.

“I am with Fiddleford.” Ford said and tried to hide how tired he felt, the surgeon glanced at him. “I was with him when he came in the ambulance. We were in the same vehicle when the collision took place.” He tried to explain more clearly before settling on just giving his name. “Stanford Pines.”

“Lawrence Elwes, MD.” They shook hands and like most medical professionals he was curious about Ford’s extra phalanges but he focused on the task at hand. “Any other visitors?” Dr. Elwes looked around the sparse room.

“His girlfriend is heading this way, but before she gets here… is it severe?” Ford asked, wanting to be able to be strong if Keri took the news badly.

“He’s got a severe concussion and some swelling that we are going to need to make sure doesn’t get too great again. A few cracked ribs, busted nose, and a bruised collarbone from where he hit the side of the interior of the vehicle. I am surprised you were mostly unscathed.” He took a step closer and pulled back. “Now listen, I am not a police officer, but if you were the one behind the wheel and are trying to cover that up, I suggest you come clean.” Ford realized he must still stink like a bar.

“No, I was in the passenger side… but it is my fault. I distracted him with some… news.” Ford saw the confusion on the Doctor’s face. “I confessed that I am… that I have feelings for him.” Ford staggered as he got those words off of his chest a second time. However he heard a thump and turned to see Keri standing there over the bag she had presumably just dropped. “I can explain!” He said before she reared her hand back and smacked him across the face.

“I knew he was covering for you… disgusting.” Keri sneered in anger and spat on him before shoving him back. “You had everything else of his, but I just wanted him. But no not even that; he spent all day looking for you. He was desperate to know where you went. And now he is dying…” She hit him but each blow became less forceful as she sobbed.

“I… wasn’t trying to steal him away… he knew I was hiding something and he’s my friend.” Ford was not sure if he should try to comfort her but thankfully the surgeon came to take over. He jerked his head towards the door and Ford grabbed the bag to go get dressed while Elwes explained everything to her.

Ford stood in the harsh fluorescent light of the bathroom and winced seeing the bruises forming on his body from the accident. He only let out a couple of hisses as he pulled on his clothes and bumped the marks. Once done he didn’t know what to do. He decided to wander the halls of the hospital until he felt sure enough to go back and see Fiddleford or was tired enough to try and get some sleep. He didn’t know which would happen first. He eventually found himself outside of the hospital’s chapel and not knowing what drew him inside he tried the door to find it unlocked which seemed odd. It was just after midnight, but he heard sounds inside. He walked into the dark room and reached for the light switch he could just barely make out in the dim light from the hall. The lights buzzed for a second before going back out, must need some calibration he thought. Ford could not rightly recall the last time he had been in a place of worship. Filbrick Pines was a staunch agnostic after losing too many times at the Catholic gambling nights, and Caryn was raised Jewish but had fallen out with her family once she started her psychic business. If he focused really hard he could picture the sounds of a bar mitzvah for a cousin on his mother’s side, he had to have been five or six? Stanley had been excited thinking everyone who came to it was now a man, so he had gone up to the rabbi’s wife and asked her point blank, “ _So what’s it like being a man_?” He had his hide tanned so bad he hadn’t been able to sit for a week, and Stanford had messed up his father’s jacket when he spit out the grape juice hearing his brother, so he was right there with him in the ache. He must have started laughing from the memory because he heard someone beside him whisper.

“ ** _SHHH…_** ”


	26. Reflection

The whisper made Ford nearly jump out of his skin. He looked around for the source, expecting to find a sour faced old woman who came to find out what the noise was about. He was all alone. He felt a deep chill in his body and reached for the door out. He tried to not panic as the handle only budge a little bit but what really started to concern him was the sound of chains rattling on the other side of the door. That was not good. He banged on the door. “Let me out! I am stuck!”

“ ** _SHHH…_** ”

That same whispered hushing sound came right from behind him and made him scream; not a girly scream no, a manly one that only would have caused glass to shatter from the volume and not the high pitch. Okay so he squealed like a stereotypical housewife in the cartoons when they saw a biologically inaccurate bipedal mouse. He looked around for the cause but saw nothing. He saw a sign on the opposite wall revealed in a beam of moonlight and partially obscured by a curtain; ‘EXIT’ right above a door. He bolted for it and slammed into the door only to bounce off of it with a clatter making his bruises cry out for his thick headedness. He then sensibly tried the handle and yanked only for the handle to come free. He pulled back the curtain and read the sign fully, it had two lines and was for some reason left justified.

**NOT AN ACTUAL EXIT**

**FAKE DOOR**

Who makes signs like that?! He would never be so stupid and careless. He realized he was locked in a spooky chapel, well was it spooky or just spooky because it was dark? He turned and saw the pews were now packed with skeletons covered in cobwebs and spiders, so definitely spooky maybe even scary. He crossed the platform where the altar was to look for anything to try and break the chapel door down when what sounded like a hundred knuckles popping at the same time came from the pews. He stopped and looked to see that all of the skeletons were now looking directly at him. Oh fantastic news. He moved back the way he came and the noise happened though lesser since they had gotten to move. He did this several times before he went to stand at the altar. He figured he might try to address them.

“Uh... hi.” Ford said weakly and gave a slight wave. He got not a single response. “You all seem very… lively this evening.” He swallowed and wondered if he was doing a good thing by trying to communicate with them. He remembered his talk with Michael and realized some people just needed someone to talk to. He adjusted his shirt collar only to find it button up even beyond his normal amount and felt a band looped around. He looked down and instead of the brown long sleeve he had gotten it was black as night and flowed down his body. He realized it was a preacher’s attire. “Oh good lord…” He murmured in shock.

“ ** _Oh good lord..._** ” The congregation repeated with all the clearness of people dying of thirst. The rasp was overpowering and he felt the urge to run even as his legs felt bolted to the floor.

“Oh… God, Sweet Jesus!” He yelped in surprised at the sudden voices.

“ ** _Oh… God, Sweet Jesus…_** ” They responded with some added life to their voices. Ford thought he saw the tinges of some blue among their dusty bones.

“Are you copying everything I say?” Ford asked and this time only silence answered him. He decided to test the waters. “God.”

“ ** _God…_** ” They answered.

“Moses.” Ford said.

“ ** _Moses…_** ” The congregation responded.

“Steve!” Ford said with some flair only to be met with the deafening silence. An idea began to form in his head as he stood there behind the altar. He checked below and found a dusty bible. He opened up the creaking musty leather book and found a random passage. They answered him with gusto. More light began to shine from them the longer his sermon lasted. However when he continued to preach to them he saw their faces were shrewd and not pleasant at all to look at, his breath became visible and he got a sinking feeling in his stomach. Ford stood there as he saw them fully rejuvenated. He had a moment of reflection to wonder if these grounds were still consecrated. As the spirits began to rise to their feet and look at him not with good intentions in their gazes.

“Damn it.” Ford cursed softly.


	27. Extinguish

The ghosts suddenly on their feet began to float up as spectral blue lights flicked over everything. Ford had to wonder how much juice he had given them with his sermon. He finally found his legs free as he ran towards the doors again with the tails of his black coat flapping behind him like batwings. He reached the door but this time they felt welded shut. He hit the door with the bible and growled in anger. “This is not fun!” Each word punctuated with a strike. He turned to see the congregation looking at him and he wondered what happened to their last priest. He pushed that thought aside and went along the wall of the chapel looking for some other exit, thinking he could escape if he was just able to find a way to slip by. The ghosts did not seem to be in a rush as they leisurely followed his movements like a cat that has a mouse cornered. “Leave me alone!” He cried out.

“ ** _NO…_** ” Their response came resolute. Seems they wanted to keep him around to feed them. He slammed the bible on the altar and began to thumb through it looking for something, anything to ward them off. He rattled off passages talking of banishing evil and keeping people safe in the light of heaven. Nothing was working. He threw the bible and wondered if it was him. If he was just too much of a freak, an anomaly for him to have any power. He tried to think of what good he was and tears sprouted from his eyes. He could not answer honestly. He looked up and saw their ghostly glowing shapes reaching out for him, not to comfort but to consume his grief. His fire. His life.

“The sun sinks to rise again; the day is swallowed up in the gloom of night, to be born out of it, as fresh as if it had never been quenched.” He found himself speaking and to his surprise the ghosts stopped, the quote came unconsciously to his lips. He could not remember the book it was from, no he could. It was a gift to him two years ago. He could not remember why Stanley had given it to him.

“ _I saw it on the shelf and the creepy face on the cover just leaped out at me. I don’t know, was too wordy for me but you might like it. Let me know if they make it into a movie or something._ ” Stanley’s voice rang in his ears, he had sat on his bed and flipped through it. He found stains from Stanley’s favorite snack; those awful toffee peanuts on many of the pages. The spine was a little worn and he realized Stanley had read a book. The thought had surprised him that no one forced him to but he had sat down and actually read something of his own accord and wanted to share it with him. He felt something surge inside of his chest and he stood up straight, his voice firm as he recited another quote.

“As far as God goes, I am a nonbeliever. Still am. But when it comes to a devil---well, that's something else.” Ford saw them shrink back, their ghostly light flickering.

“Like the brief doomed flare of exploding suns that registers dimly on blind men's eyes, the beginning of the horror passed almost unnoticed; in the shriek of what followed, in fact, was forgotten and perhaps not connected to the horror at all!” Fire began to fill his voice as he preached something he believed in, the power of books and knowledge and the little joys of life captured in sweets stained pages. The ghosts were forced back down into their pews.

“As he turned the corner, he noticed that the tall old man hadn't moved but was standing under the streetlight glow, in mist, like a melancholy traveler frozen in time!” Ford shouted and saw the light melt off of their bones as he walked between the pews filled with the ghostly congregation.

“There it lies, I think, Damien … possession; not in wars, as some tend to believe; not so much; and very rarely in extraordinary interventions such as here … this girl … this poor child. No, I tend to see possession most often in the little things, Damien: in the senseless, petty spites and misunderstandings; the cruel and cutting word that leaps unbidden to the tongue between friends. Between lovers. Between husbands and wives. Enough of these and we have no need of Satan to manage our wars; these we manage for ourselves … for ourselves.” Ford’s voice was confident as he reached the doors and found them resisting him still.

“This century hasn't got the lock on insanity.” Spat Ford with one last quote and the door was opened to him. He felt a weight come off his shoulders and sank against the wall. He looked back and saw the door was indeed chained shut. Seemed they had sensed him coming and opened up thinking they had a visitor. Ford let out a tired laugh and a nurse came by to see him on the floor looking pale and weary.

“Um… excuse me sir, are you alright?” She asked, her features reading like she was ready to call some nice men in white coats to taking him to a rubber room.

“No… well yes… I mean. How do I get back to the ICU waiting room?” Ford got up slowly as he asked. The kind woman pointed him in the right direction and stood there looking back at the chapel. He wanted to warn her but she turned away and went back to her business. He soon found himself amongst the other concerned families and friends. He saw no sign of Keri which he wasn’t sure was glad or not of. He looked at the woman manning the desk. “Fiddleford McGucket?” He asked.

“He got moved to observation for the night, his girlfriend is with him. No other visitors allowed until morning though.” She said businesslike before looking at him over her glasses. “You look like you seen a ghost.” Concern slipping into her voice.

“Uh more than one… don’t worry I went for a late night walk. But I think I will turn in for the night. Thank you very much.” Ford then wandered off towards his room, he got undressed and back in hospital attire to slink under the covers. His nurse came by to scold him for being out past lights out. He apologized and when she went to leave he asked her not to extinguish the lights. Thinking it was odd but she didn’t say anything.

Ford laid in bed looking up at the ceiling and sighed softly as he thought of his feelings for Fiddleford and what that meant for everything going on. He just needed to sit him down alone and talk it out. How badly could it go? He thought of Keri’s reaction and frowned. “Never was he conscious that his thoughts were prayers; only that the prayers were never answered.” Ford quoted one last time before turning over to try and sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book quotes belong to "The Exorcist" by William Peter Blatty (1971).


	28. Separation

Ford had visited McGucket early the next day when Keri had gone to finally get herself breakfast. His friend was not lucid but he sat there for a time and held his hand to comfort him, though he jerked away every time he heard footsteps thinking it would be Keri’s return. Finally knowing this was not the right place to be he left to go back to the college, getting his discharge papers and a prescription for some extra strength Ibuprofen to take for pain. He picked it up but tossed it into a drawer to forget about. He last only a couple hours before he had to take one. He kept the dorm room clean but he lacked McGucket’s eye for order. He sat messing with Fiddleford’s puzzle cube before putting it down. He felt ill at ease. It surely couldn’t be that long before his friend was back.

It was three weeks later when McGucket was finally allowed to leave the hospital. Classes had started again and Ford had a full workload once more. Though he was being careful not to overdo it as he didn’t have his friend to keep him from spiraling. McGucket walked through the door and Ford looked over his shoulder half expecting Keri to be right behind him. Not seeing her Ford ran to his friend and hugged him tightly. “Careful now, you are going to hootenanny my garybop.” His accent was a touch thicker.

“Uh what does that mean?” Ford asked, laughing but he saw the confused look on Fiddleford’s face.

“Oh dangnabbit… I got a condition when I hit my rumblebox. They call it Jargon Aphasia, I’ll insert gobblegook in my sentences. It should pass within a little while the bonepickers say. But if I get anymore head trauma it might get worse.” McGucket explained before sighing. “I am starving, and we got some hashing to do.” Ford nodded and grabbed his jacket to go out. They settled on Asian cuisine, though it took Ford far too long to finally give up trying to figure out how to use chopsticks. If he held it like McGucket did the balance was off and he kept dropping it, but if he moved it down a finger his index was blocking his movement. He asked for a fork instead much to Fiddleford’s amusement.

“I am glad to see you are on the road to recovery my friend, I was really worried. After I said what I said.” Ford looked at his plate, unable to meet McGucket’s eyes.

“About that, your feelingboppers.” McGucket said and looked around awkwardly. “Keri told me how she feels about it. It ain’t pretty.”

“I am sorry, I understand if you don’t want to be around me anymore.” Ford said weakly, his heart hurting illogically as no harm was done to him physically.

“I didn’t say that, don’t go putting words in my pie-hole Stanford.” McGucket said sternly. “I don’t feel the way you do, but… you are my friend. And I told Keri if she couldn’t handle it… well the wall hole was right there.”

Ford felt some of the pain leave but he had been kidding himself if he thought that Fiddleford felt the same as he did. “I am sorry… I take it she took the way out?” McGucket nodded and sighed. “I hope that you will be okay.”

“Yeah I’ll be fine, but that ain’t what I wanted to spittle about. I’m leaving. I don’t know rightly where, maybe back to Tennessee, maybe somewhere else in California.” McGucket met Ford’s eye line. “It isn’t your fault. I was feeling this course for some time. I don’t fit in this puzzle. And I want to make my mark without this college papermill.”

“I see.” Ford said and felt his eyes sting as he wondered what this meant for himself. He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. He jumped slightly feeling Ford’s hand take his. He looked at him and wondered if he could ever express how much he adored and loved this man. He took a deep breath and they resumed eating, though their fingertips were not far apart.

Ford helped McGucket pack his things as much as he could between classes but his friend was still recovering so it took them a couple weeks. Finally he got everything he could into his car and in a trailer he rigged up to the back of. Fiddleford was getting to leave on a Sunday. They stood in the dawn’s light as the last banjo was strapped down. McGucket looked up at his friend and they shook hand which evolved into tight hug. “I’ll miss you Stanford… but don’t let yourself go too much. I’ll keep in touch where I can until I get homesteaded.”

“I’ll miss you more than you’ll realize Fiddleford, I know it sounds stupid but you will be my only friend.” Ford laughed sadly and McGucket shook his head.

“Don’t talk like that. You’ll find people who care about you and will do anything for you. And you’ll do anything for them. It might take a while but you’ll know it.” McGucket said serenely before he did something Ford was shocked and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t think too much of it you hornswaggle.” He tried to be stern but Ford saw the rosy color in his cheeks that was not from the morning light. They said their goodbyes and Ford stood there watching the taillights of the car and trailer drive off in the distance until he turned a corner. The separation was not as vast as he had initially feared but he reached up and touched his face, the kiss still warm and filled with things Ford was not certain of but was glad to know. He turned and walked back into the dorm, ready to knuckle down and work on his studies so that he could be someone worthy of that admiration and affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Information on the use of Chopsticks by a six fingered man came from a discord user on the r/GravityFalls server.
> 
> "Ok here's my theory. So Ford's has type A Postaxial polydactyly, which means he has full range of motion of his extra fingers (and according to Hirsch, his toes). This is further confirmed in canon by the magnificent dice roll in the gif attached. The chopsticks are held with the pinky underneath, which means he'll have 2 pinkies underneath, probably fucking the balance. BUT, if Ford moves the chopsticks down a finger, his index has to extend farther down, as well as his other fingers, giving him less range of motion. TDLR, Ford should stick to a fork, but he'd probably good at the piano."  
> [Username not given out respect of privacy]


	29. Detection

Ford was fine for the first week of McGucket’s absence, after all he had been okay during his friend’s stay in the hospital. By the second week the room had grown a little dingier and untidy. The third week he had food boxes stacked up as he hadn’t had a home cooked meal in weeks. A month out from Fiddleford’s departure he was taking a bus to the campus of West Coast Tech. His reasoning was… well he didn’t know. He was angry and lonely and he needed something to do. So he took a page out of Stanley’s book. He wanted to vandalize something, and better to do it not in his own backyard. Ford got off the bus and walked to the nearest hardware store. He entered looking slightly disheveled and maybe a hair unhinged. The young worker behind the counter seemed to be wondering if this was going to be a robbery.

“C-can I help you sir?” The employee asked shakily, his nametag said Jackson.

“Yes I think you can Jackson… I need some paint.” Ford said flatly and fixed his glasses.

“Oh, what k-kind? We have interior and exterior. We have a sale currently primer as well.” Jackson relaxed a little but he still seemed on edge.

“Exterior will do me fine, no primer though. Also I need a roller, the kind with extending handle.” Ford took out his wallet and checked his finances. He wasn’t rolling in cash but he would be able to handle the cost.

“Right over here sir, what kind of color were you wanting?” Jackson finally seemed to not be afraid, but kept an eye on him.

“Jackson, you keep looking at me like that, I might think you have intentions.” Ford said darkly, but he was not threatening the kid. “I’ll take bright red, the brightest you got.”

“I mean no disrespect sir but can I ask about the hands?” Jackson said as he got a can of barn red and put it on the shaker as he fetched the paint roller.

“Oh… I was born with them.” Ford answered tersely still not liking people commenting on them. He put his arms behind his back and stood up straighter. “How much will I be owing you?”

“Between everything, it should come up roughly around twenty bones.” Jackson said cheerily and put a paint tray with the purchases. “Figure you’ll need this too.” Ford nodded and paid the man, he got his change back and a receipt. Ford stuffed it into his pocket and left with his supplies. He staked out across from the campus at a Mexican cantina. He ate his nachos in contemplative silence as he pondered what the heck he was doing. He didn’t know but he knew it’d be funny. He took out his notebook and began to plot. He chewed a couple pens before he was done.

It was a little after 11 :00 PM when Ford struck. He was not the stealthiest of vandals, rattling slightly with the bucket, roller, and tray. However it didn’t matter as he was always a spellcaster in DD&MD. Fiddleford had been the thief, well rogue in his own definition, but a spade was a spade in his book. He used his keys to pop the lid off and poured the red into the tray. He looked at his canvas, a beautiful blue wall. He started to paint his message, he wasn’t sure what compelled him to do it but it felt right. Though of course he didn’t do it the easy way. He had made a cipher for the eggheads to crack. It might stump them for a little bit but he did not think it’d matter after he was gone. In large red block letters on the wall of the administration building he wrote this message.

**Mlnvfadxzcp td esp mpde!**

**Dtipc!**

With the last bit painted he picked up everything and dumped it into a dumpster before heading back to the bus station. The clerk in the window was in the middle of reading what seemed to be a bodice ripper harlequin romance novel, she took one look at him and screamed. Ford didn’t realize what was wrong until he saw his hands were covered in red. He must have looked like a mad murderer.

“No wait, it is just paint!” He called after her but she was long gone and a rotund security guard came out shakily holding his sidearm. “Don’t shoot, I am just a painter…” He fumbled for a name. “Jackson…” He saw an advertisement for fishing and the first species jumped in his mind. “Pollock. Jackson Pollock.” Ford froze as he realized what a stupid alias he just used for a painter, arguably one of the most famous expressionist painters in the world, and a man who had been dead for nearly twenty years.

“Wait… THE Jackson Pollock? I heard of you. You look a lot younger than I’d thought.” The guard holstered his gun and Ford breathed a sigh of relief, the man was a moron.

“Yes… I was just looking to head back to my apartment… out of town. I was just here for a gig and my car broke down.” Ford found the lies coming easy. “Are you a fan of my work?” Ford asked, trying to keep up the ruse.

“I mean… looks like a mess to me but it isn’t bad. Can I get an autograph?” The guard pulled out a small flipbook, seemed he was a bit of an amateur sketch artist.

“Of course.” Ford said confidently and took it. “What’s your name?”

“William. William Nought.” The guard smiled as Ford wrote ‘To William” and followed it up by breaking a pen to make a splatter on the page.

“That’s an original Pollock, don’t go selling it anytime soon.” Ford then pointed at the window. “Mind getting her back so I can get on the bus?” He tried to act a casual as he could. He realized just how big of a trail he was leaving if the university decided to press charges and the police started and investigation to hunt him down. What an idiot. He boarded the bus and did his best to fall asleep so he could get back to campus, hurry to get a shower so he could wash off all of the paint, and then make it to his classes. He was too tired to worry about the consequences of his prank.

It slipped his mind until next week when he was called up to the Dean’s office and ushered inside by Dotty the secretary; still stern as ever. He half expected to be sat down and questioned by some hard nose detective types; the kind with the hokey fedoras and trench coats. However to his surprise it was just Doctor David Cole sitting behind his desk making a token roll over his knuckles. Ford was impressed by the feat. He looked closer and saw it was an AA chip. Ford felt a knot form in his stomach as he did not know what to say. He clearly did not hear him come inside, those old fashioned hearing aids stuck into his ears. So Ford gently tapped the desk and the vibration seemed to catch his attention. He sat up and greeted him with his usual enthusiasm.

“STANFORD PINES, GOOD TO SEE YA KID, GOOD TO SEE YA. CAN I INTEREST YOU IN A CUP OF HOT BLACK COFFEE? I HAVE BEEN DRINKING ENOUGH TO MAKE ME VIBRATE THROUGH WALLS, WANNA SEE ME TRY?” Ford still had some trouble with the man’s manner of loudly speaking to hear himself through the hearing aids.

“No thank you sir, I’ll be fine.” Ford spoke with exaggerated mouth movements but Doctor Cole wasn’t paying attention enough and he touched the intercom on his desk.

“DOTTY SWEET THING, MIND BRINGING US A COUPLE CUPS OF JOE, I AM FEELING A BIT LOW ON FUEL IF YA KNOW WHAT I MEAN.” The Dean let go of the button and it wasn’t but a couple of seconds later that Dotty was coming through with tall mugs of steaming coffee; he figured she heard him through the walls. Ford graciously accepted his and took a polite sip before setting it on the desk, he noticed that Doctor Cole didn’t put his down and continued to hold it.

“So you wanted to see me?” Ford asked trying to figure out if this was another faculty thing or if it was related to the incident at West Coast Tech.

“YES I WANTED TO TALK TO YOU AND LET YOU KNOW.” Doctor Cole looked around suspiciously before dropping his voice to normal volume. “There are a couple of detectives who wanted to question you, I got to see a picture of some graffiti at West Coast Tech, the dorks over there solved some kind of a secret message painted in big letters on their wall. Well, I solved it for them. I love puzzles. So give me a nod if it was you and I’ll get your back.” Ford was shocked but nodded. He then found out why the Dean held onto his mug when the intercom buzzed back and basically shook the whole desk. Ford snatched up his mug before it fell but still ended up wearing part of it.

Two men looking nothing like what he had expected, a large rotund man with dark hair and a shorter slim mustachioed man with sandy blond hair and glasses came inside, both in slightly frumpy suits. However they had their eyes on him as if they were already certain of his guilt. “Doctor Cole, I am Detective Samuel Burke, and this is my partner, Detective Maximilian Williams.” The larger man, Detective Burke said.

“Afternoon gentlemen.” Detective Williams introduced, he then leaned over to his partner and Ford was able to make out a little of what was said. “Sir, the kid has…”

However Burke spoke up to the other detective. “Yeah four eyes, I ain’t blind. I see his hands.” That made Ford’s skin turn icy cold despite the slight scalding on his thighs.

“WELCOME WELCOME GENTLEMEN, COFFEE?” Doctor Cole was just as observant it seemed and wanted to make sure his student was not in trouble. “I ALSO HAVE A LARGE SELECTION OF DONUTS AVAILABLE FROM A STAFF BREAKFAST IF YOU WOULD LIKE.” That seemed to catch the attention of Burke who nodded.

“You’re talkin’ my language. I’ll take six, no custard filled, hate them.” Burke grimaced.

“YOU CUSSED WHO? MY SECRETARY, I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I DO NOT APPRECIATE SUCH…” Doctor Cole puffed up slightly.

“No, custard. The filling.” Williams corrected which seemed to get through the deafness. “Sir, I’d hate to deprive you of food but we haven’t got time.” He directed to his partner.

“Fine fine, whateva. Listen kid, we got a long drive back so let’s just make it clear. Did you deface the Admin building at WCT?” Burke asked pointedly and Ford froze like a deer in headlights.

“OFFICER, YOU ARE SADLY MISTAKEN, HE COULD NOT HAVE BEEN THERE AT THE TIME. HE WAS WITH ME AT THE LIBRARY. WE WERE READING… WHAT WAS IT STANFORD?” Doctor Cole was giving him an easy pitch.

“The Large Scale Structure of Space-Time, Doctor Cole.” Ford said loudly and Cole snapped his fingers in approval. “It is a very fascinating study of…”

“Yeah yeah, well we got a picture of you in a bus station covered in red paint.” Burke interrupted.

“We also have a witness from the hardware store that you bought some supplies from. He made a note about your six fingers.” Williams added on. Ford felt he was ensnared before he stood up angrily.

“My god damn brother!” That made everyone jump back slightly. “Stanley Pines! My twin, he cost me a scholarship to West Coast Tech, and then after he got kicked out of the house… he must have wanted revenge. I swear if I ever see him I am going to rip off his head.” Ford was surprised by his own anger, he wasn’t sure how much was acting anymore.

“EASY STANFORD. I WILL SWEAR THAT THIS YOUNG MAN WAS AT THIS CAMPUS WITH ME, OFFICERS. I REMEMBER HIM CLEARLY TALKING ABOUT HIS BROTHER DURING A FACULTY LUNCHEON. STANFORD HERE IS A FINE UPSTANDING YOUTH WITH A PROMISING FUTURE.” Doctor Cole put his hand on Ford’s shoulder which helped him calm down. The detectives seemed uncertain but took notes.

“We’ll look into this ‘twin’ of yours. But I hope you don’t think we are dumb.” Burke said before turning to leave. Williams followed after him and once the doors were shut, both Ford and Cole sank to sit on the edge of the Dean’s desk.

“Holy mackerel, I didn’t think that’d work.” Ford whispered and looked at Doctor Cole. He took his hand and shook it gratefully.

“Don’t sweat it son, we all have some wild oats to sow, but glad to see you standing up for our school to those snooty bastards.” Cole used his lower voice again before suddenly shifting back to his louder one. “GO ON AND GET BACK TO YOUR STUDIES, I AM INTERESTED IN SEEING WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT BLACK HOLES THOUGH, MAYBE WE CAN STUDY SOME MORE.”

Ford left the Dean’s office feeling like he was walking on air. He was certain that he hadn’t evaded detection but he hoped that Stanley was still up to his no good ways to serve as a scapegoat. He did not feel bad, thinking about how much it had cost him with his screw up. Ford was just looking after himself was all, and he felt a lot more at home at this campus than he had in a while. Yet he still felt that longing for a place that seemed to draw him towards it somehow.


	30. Firmament

Ford did not have any further encounters with the detectives yet, so either they found an extensive record of Stanley’s misdoings or were building up a case against him. He did his best to focus on his studies but he was still dealing with the… well loss wasn’t entirely accurate, what would you call having the man you have feelings for leaving to find himself? He did not know entirely but he was haphazardly cleaning when he found a box he wasn’t familiar with. He opened it up and dropped it immediately. He walked back and forth trying to make sense of what to do with it. He went back and picked it up looking at the dusty photos inside. It showed Fiddleford grinning foolishly with his arm around a smiling woman, Keri. He tried to make the decision to get rid of it and throw it away. He wasn’t sure if McGucket had intended to do that or… he was not sure. However he knew the polite thing to do was let the other half of that fractured equation decide for herself. “This is not going to go well.” Ford surmised.

He waited outside the gas station trying to not like too much of a creep. The air was getting that slight hint of winter to it and he knew he needed to man up and get this over with. Best case scenario she tells him to get lost, worst was either she broke down in tears or got furious. He wasn’t sure which of the latter he was more capable of handling. Ford had taken a good hit from her brother, but he did not doubt that she could do something similar. He took a deep breath and walked across the parking lot before he realized he left the box and hurried back to snatch it up. He carried it to the door and entered, the tingle of the bells indicating his intrusion. She was busy stocking snacks when she turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Oh… it’s you.” Keri spoke tersely which was not entirely unjust as he still felt immense guilt for the dissolving of her relationship with Fiddleford.

“I was cleaning up the dorm…” Ford said repeating his rehearsed script he had made.

“That’d be a first.” Keri sniped at him which threw him off balance.

“… I found a box of things that… that you.” Ford closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I am sorry… I messed up.” His voice cracked with emotion, something he rarely had happen. This took Keri for a loop from the sound of her voice.

“Y-yeah… you did screw it up. I mean… why? Why him?” She tried to cling to anger he could tell but the ache was there for her as well.

“Because… he treated me like a person.” Ford admitted to her and opened his eyes to see her looking at him over the shelf of overpriced chips and candy.

“Same reason… I mean he is not a great guy, he gets distracted and forgetful… but he always was looking out for others. I thought he saw you as a brother and…” Keri threw her hands up and laughed bitterly. “Look at me, talking to the guy who my ex got all worked up over.”

“Stop it… he didn’t… doesn’t like me back. I don’t know what is going on with him but… it is not me he wants.” Ford admitted and walked around to put the box on the counter. “This is some things he kept but I don’t know if he forgot it or left it there.” He gestured and took a step back to let her look it over.

Keri walked up to it and half expecting some kind of trick flipped the flap open to avoid any triggered trap. However it was just a box. She looked inside and began sifting through things. “He really kept that?” She asked in slight disbelief as she pulled out a little plastic costume ring.

“What… what is it?” Ford asked and moved a little closer.

“Our first date, the idiot took me out to a carnival. He tried his hand at one of the ball tossing games, bounced it off the base and it bonked me in the head. The kid running it gave him this ring basically as a freebie. I was so mad at him.” Keri shook her head. “The next day he shows up here with flowers and a bottle of aspirin for my head. Said, ‘I really messed up but I had fun before that all happened.’” She looked at Ford. “I had to go into the freezer to try and get my head wrapped around it, no guy ever would have done that. I mean… he is such a dork.”

Ford laughed a little at the story. “Wow, that sounds like him though.”

“Doesn’t it?” Keri joined too before they both realized they were still in unsure territory. “Got any good Fiddleford stories?” She asked and got up on the counter to sit as she looked through the box.

“Well… I doubt he’d want me to tell you this but… pretty soon after we became roommates. We went gold panning in the hills one weekend and we got high on mushrooms.” Ford grinned slightly.

“Shut up! No way you did that… Lynda was convinced you were a total square.” Keri gawked at him and he did not feel much animosity towards his one-time date who had gone after him a little.

“She used me to smuggle in some weed into that David Bowie concert.” Ford admitted and shrugged.

“Yeah she is a bit of free spirit.” Keri looked at him and scratched the back of her head. “I know I asked but… really why him?” Ford looked at her and felt his insides turn into knots.

“Because I don’t know who I am, I am a twin but that got fractured… broken. I don’t have another half and McGucket… he felt like he was right. I don’t know why it became romantic. I never felt that… well I had a crush in elementary but she was repulsed by these hands.” Ford looked down and balled them up into fists. He heard her feet touch the floor and she put her hands on his wrists.

“You are different… weird… but cool, Stanford.” Ford was not used to her saying his name. It had not happened much. “And I know that he will be back one day. In one of our lives. I hope it is mine but… if it is yours, well… don’t hurt him.” Keri said softly. “Or else I will come with Michael and we’ll break your legs.” There was that fire.

“Uhh… point noted.” Ford said nervous but he was a little appreciative. He never would imagine hurting Fiddleford.

“Now are you going to buy something or loiter around some more.” Keri smirked slightly and went to the box. Ford did not know what overcame him but he walked up and hugged her.

“Thank you… for not hating me.” Ford said graciously.

“I don’t hate… it is too much work to do that.” Keri admitted but returned the embrace. Maybe it was just that McGucket shaped absence but they both knew that they needed a hug. Ford took a step back. “So Weird Science guy… what can I get you?”

“I’ll take a pack of gum.” Ford said and paid for it. Her words rung in his head. Weird Science. He certainly wouldn’t disagree that was a feasible field of study, he had begun looking into anomalies in his spare time. The hospital had a very sordid history, the beach had been used in legends, and the stretch of road had been home to sightings before. There was a web of oddity out there. He might as well start figuring out more about it if it was possible. He looked up at the stars that hung in the great firmament; the big Dipper with its guiding light. As he stared a meteor shot across the sky, its layers burning away leaving a faintly rainbow wake as different metals ionized and bled into a wake of light. A shooting star just as weird and lonely as he was. He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and started back to campus to get started working once again. He was hoping to get his doctorate ahead of schedule.


	31. Recrudesce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back on this story after a relaxing break... of writing a whole different story. I just needed some time to think of where the story should go next. I hope you find this return to this world an enjoyable one.

Ford had fallen once again into the trappings of his obsessive nature. Though not nearly as disastrously as previous times; it still left him in a fairly poor state. His one saving grace was a bi-weekly dinner he shared with the Dean of the college Doctor David Cole. The man was twice divorced and a widower, though it did not seem like he was unpopular with the ladies despite his hearing problems. Ford found the man more fascinating the more he learned of him. He was a physicist; one of the eggheads who were working on energy sources while the boys in Los Alamos were building bombs. Speaking of which; he had lost his hearing during a test where one of the generators they were testing produced a frequency that shredded his ear drums, but he made it clear he was one of the lucky ones. So having enough of Uncle Sam’s buffoonery he decided to get into teaching. Ford felt a kinship with the man; and it seemed the childless Dean had decided to informally adopt the odd young man and take him under his wing.

“I TELL YOU, I MEAN I REALLY TELL YOU; YOU HAVE GOT TO TRY THIS PLACE’S PIE.” Doctor Cole insisted as they sat in a diner not far from the Backupsmore campus. In the half a year since the Dean decided to protect him from the vengeance of those ‘hacks’ at West Coast Tech, as Cole thought of them, they had visited most dives, diners, and drive-ins in a fifteen mile radius. They talked about scientific ideas and the latest breakthroughs of technology most of the time, but Cole was insistent on making sure Ford appreciated life’s simple pleasures of coffee and pie.

“Alright I’ll have one small slice and no coffee.” Ford held up his finger and then a cut off motion to indicate to the mostly deaf man. However the Dean was casting glances at the waitress who was pouring coffee; leaving Ford to wonder which of the two he was more infatuated with.

“OH MADEMOISELLE, TWO LARGE SLICES OF YOUR CHERRY PIE FOR OUR TABLE, AND NICE HOT CUPS OF COFFEE TO GO WITH IT!” The Dean ordered, somehow the volume of his voice being even louder. Ford was not sure how that was possible. He was too distracted with trying to recover his hearing to notice that Cole had neglected to listen to his request.

“Damn you, sir.” Ford muttered and shook his head as the plate and cup was set in front of him. However he was not going to be rude to the man and not eat it. He dug in, and it was pretty good pie. Ford then looked up at Doctor David. “So can you tell me about what became of your work, or is it under classified information?” Ford was not prying, except he was. He found the topic to be fascinating. He could only imagine what sort of energy the Dean had been capable of harnessing. However Cole fixed him with a peculiar stare as he drank his coffee.

“MAYBE ONE DAY I’LL RECRUDESCE THOSE OLD FILES, BUT DON’T JUMP BEFORE YOU CAN RUN, BOY. YOU MIGHT BE ONE OF THE BRIGHTEST MINDS I’VE MET, BUT THAT CAN MEAN A LOT OF MISTAKES IF YOU AREN’T CAREFUL.” Doctor Cole warned him, and if it had been anyone else Ford would have taken offense but he had a level of respect for the Dean. However that did not mean he 100% agreed with him. Ford was not so careless as to let mistakes happen.

“I appreciate that, sir. But I should be heading back to my dorm and I guess hit the books.” Ford stood up and stretched slightly.

“YOU’RE GONNA WHAT TO THE COOKS?” The Dean asked incredulously as Ford was left to wonder what he misheard or didn’t catch. He glanced and saw the two cooks peering out of the window at him. He tried to smooth things over.

“Books, sir. I said books!” Ford then decided to just cut his losses and leave; abandoning a partial slice of pie that he had wanted to take along. He went out into the warm April evening as he headed back to the dorm on foot. He stopped by the post office to pick up his mail. Ford opened the door to the dorm and let out a sigh as he still missed the warm greetings from Fiddleford, “ _Hey Stanford, been workin’ hard as usual I see. Hope you feel up to takin’ a nice break and we can go for some DD &MD iffin’ ya like _?”. He sat down at the small table they had used for breakfast. He had some junk mail, and was about to throw the stack into the overfilled trash can when he saw familiar handwriting. It had a return address of Tennessee. He opened it up and pulled out the letter inside.

_Dear Stanford,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good spirits and healthy living. I know I probably should have reached out sooner but I had a lot on my mind. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying here so I wouldn’t worry about sending a letter back._

_Not that I don’t want to hear from you. I miss you a lot, you are my best friend. I hope when I can say I’ve settled down more, we can have more stable lines of communication._

_I think I understand how it must have been for you to go back home and see your old stomping grounds. This is a real trip, and perhaps not all of these memories are the best. I am just rambling now, but I have gone through more paper than I care to admit on previous drafts. So I’ll just keep this a little brief. I hope you are finding someone to keep you from drifting off into your own world again. I ain’t there to take care of you. I kind of wish I was, made me feel like I was good at something. I hope you actually get to read this and it doesn’t get tossed in the trash._

_Your friend always,_

_Fiddleford H. McGucket_

_P.S._

_I wrote this little ditty, said I might take it to Nashville, what do you think?_

Ford read the musical notes and he could picture McGucket plucking away on his banjo. He felt that intense longing reawaken in his heart and wondered if Fiddleford knew it would do that. He had his suspicions but he held the letter to his chest and let his lip quiver as he contained his tears. It was weird how simple words could cause such an intense reaction, but Ford knew that they were more complex than most scientific formulae.


	32. Sequence

Ford woke up at his alarm. He sat up and realized he was still holding Fiddleford’s letter as his face immediately darkened at how cliché and cheesy it was. He was not some doe-eyed love-struck puppy. He neatly folded the letter and stuck it under his pillow for safekeeping. He didn’t want it to become lost among his growing collection of books and scratch paper for his assignments. He, by his own calculation, will have achieved his bachelor's degree a year early. However he was not going to be satisfied with such a paltry wall salad, he was going to be a Doctor damn it. He then looked at a toaster and wondered when the last time he had gotten bread was. He found out shortly after when he found something that could sustain life… if it were fungal in nature. He gagged and looked around for his trash can and saw it was over-flowing. He felt such a twinge of guilt for how poorly he maintained everything without his friend here to cover for him. He needed to take some time and get the place cleaned up… later. First he needed to attend classes.

Ford was brilliant academically but he was not the best housekeeper. He was not unfamiliar with cleaning, he had certainly done enough as a child. However living with a messy brother above a pawn store did not exactly instill great discipline in him on keeping everything beyond generally organized piles. He did his best though, much of the scratch paper was sorted into  _ Maybe Need  _ or  _ Don’t Really Want to Lose _ . It… wasn’t the best system to be honest. However it was at least in two large piles instead of a dozen or so small ones. That was progress, wasn’t it? He also made sure to get some heavy duty trash bags to collect old food containers, half-drunk cans of soda and beer, and the contents of a mini-fridge he had bought and lost among the piles. He swore he saw something move and so he had gotten an improvised cattle prod; constructed out of a car battery he found and some other components. It ionized the air; which meant it was going to be very effective but after poking around it seemed whatever it was had merely been the product of his imagination… probably. He went to wipe his brow but used the hand with the weapon, causing only mild electrocution and his hair to stick out like a Troll doll.

Ford slowly pecked at the process of cleaning up his dorm so that at least the floor was walkable outside of a winding trail he had forged through it. In this process he found plenty of odds and ends that served as mementos of McGucket and even Keri. He did not wish to push their neutrality with one another by bringing her anymore mementos or making the mistake of idly confessing the reception of a letter from their commonality. He just wasn’t built for that kind of thing. He could barely handle his own emotions, add into that another? It was just a bad idea. He jokingly wondered if he ought to try dating to get over his nervousness. The closest thing he had to a consistent date was the Dean, which was the furthest thing from a romantic excursion he could imagine. Doctor Cole was… like an eccentric uncle. He was like Ford but more seasoned. He wondered what David thought of him. He could ask him but that seemed far too personal. He looked around his mostly clean dorm room and felt satisfied it would last with minimal effort on his part. He sat down on his bed and reached under his pillow to pull out the letter that was still there. Over the days he had continued to read it over and tried to listen to the music in his head but he was not gifted enough for it to be accurate. He hated to admit he did occasionally tune his homemade HAM radio in towards Nashville to try and catch any stations that might have a handsome, up and coming new star with a voice he recognized. He hadn’t any luck yet, but he did hear some songs from the young woman on the Porter Wagoner Show; Parton. She had a soothing voice despite the fact he was not in country music. He wasn’t even sure what music he liked honestly. That had been Stanley’s bread and butter.

Ford paused as he wondered how long it had been since he last thought of his brother. Had it been months? He was not sure and it made him feel a pang of guilt before it was washed away with indignation. It was his brother’s own fault for being so selfish and vindictive to go so far and sabotage the project that would have had him set for life!  _ But,  _ a quiet inside voice spoke,  _ if you had never lost that scholarship it would mean that you’d never get a chance to meet Fiddleford _ . That gave Ford certain pause and he looked down at the letter in his hands. He had to admit the sequence of events that led to him finding someone who understood him was not ideal, but what would the alternative have been? He wished he could just get a glimpse at that other world. Was it possible to even see or perhaps visit? He felt the tug of inspiration but shelved that idea, for now.

However, all of these thoughts about his brother had him thinking of his family and he knew he ought to check in. It’d been since Christmas since he last called. He was not exactly the best at that, though he figured Stanley had been even worse. He went to the bucket of coins he had collected from various nooks, cranny, and pockets he had cleaned out. He got enough for a modest length call and went out to the payphone to get in touch. He punched in the number for home and did the math in his head to know it was probably right after dinner. The phone rang several times before someone picked it up and answered.

“Hello, Pines residence…” It was his father and he sounded distressed.

“Dad, it is Stanford. Is everything alright?” Ford tried his best to keep his voice level.

“Stanford? I am glad you called I wasn’t sure how to get in touch. Yer mother is the one who keeps track of that stuff.” Filbrick’s speech was slurred and he could almost smell the scotch come from the receiver. “She’s in the hospital. She collapsed in the supermarket.”

Those words took all feeling out of Ford’s fingers and the handset slipped through them to bang against the wall as soon as the cord extended to its limit. Ford felt every fiber of his heart run cold as he thought of how to get to his mother’s side.


	33. Accelerate

Ford raced to get a bag together as he tried to think of how the hell he was going to get across the contiguous United States. He didn’t want to take a bus as that was going to be a 3 day ride. He wished he had a car, he was certain that McGucket would have gladly lent him his, or even gone with him. He took a deep breath before he got an idea. He grabbed his packed bag and ran across campus and into the neighborhood nearby towards the upper-middle class part of the college town. He felt like he was about to burst a lung as he reached the two story brick house that he knew to be the Dean’s. He stumbled up to the door and rang the doorbell, it was not too late in the evening he didn’t think. He leaned against the entryway and waited until he heard some locks and chains being undone before the door opened and he looked up to see Doctor Cole… in a pink robe and bunny slippers. Their eyes met and Cole seemed to take note of his heavy breathing and his bag.

“OH HELL, ARE THE COPS AFTER YOU? GET ON IN HERE.” The Dean ordered and Ford obliged though he would need to explain things once he got his breath. He looked around the older man’s home and every place that could have a book was occupied by one. It was honestly quite impressive as he walked over to the sitting area. Doctor Cole found him looking at the spines of different volumes on just about everything it seemed. “HERE’S SOME WATER, DRINK THIS WHILE I GO STOP MY BATHTUB. YOU HAVE IMPECCABLE TIMING YOUNG MAN.” He did not sound put out by the interruption, and gave a hearty chuckle. Ford drank the water in less than a second and gasped with renewed vigor as he had his parched throat quenched. He realized a low rushing sound stopped and shortly after Doctor Cole was coming back downstairs. He then took a seat and gestured to Ford.

“I am really sorry to intrude on your evening sir… I just didn’t know what else to do. It is not the police, I am not even sure they are looking at me anymore. I got some dire news from home. My mother is in the hospital and… I need to go see her.” Ford explained as he sat down, it felt good to give his legs a break. He was not a peak athlete but he had plenty of experience running from bullies who were older and most times faster than him.

“STANFORD, I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN, I AM GLAD TO HELP IN ANY WAY I CAN.” Doctor Cole said generously. That stopped Ford completely as he tried to think of anyone who would be so helpful, though he was certain he already had that answer in his heart. However he tried to express his gratitude.

“Doctor Cole, that is too kind… I don’t know what to say.” Ford stumbled over his words, his six fingers weaved together in appreciation.

“WELL YOU CAN FOCUS ON TELLING ME HOW TO HELP, YOUNG MAN. I DON’T HAVE TOO MUCH BUT A BOY WANTS TO VISIT HIS SICK MOTHER. I’D BE A MONSTER NOT TO HELP HIM OUT, AND PLEASE YOU CAN CALL ME DAVID. I’M IN MY BATHROBE FOR GOD’S SAKE.” He laughed a little at the situation he was in, not at Ford’s.

“Doctor… David. I need a ride across to New Jersey. I am asking if I might be able to borrow your car. I will pay for gas, oil changes, and new tires if I have to. I need to get going as soon as possible.” Ford pleaded and felt his chest tighten as he saw David’s face firm up in thought.

“THAT IS A PRETTY BIG ASK, I AM QUITE FOND OF MY CAR. THOUGH I DON’T BELIEVE YOU WILL BE TERRIBLY RECKLESS. AS LONG AS YOU AREN’T SPEEDING THE WHOLE WAY THERE.” David mused out loud as he watched Ford’s face closely. “I TRUST YOU STANFORD, BUT WE BETTER BE CLEAR ON SOMETHING. YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT.” The Dean then got up and walked to a bowl on a breakfast bar looking into the kitchen. He took out a set of car keys and tossed them to Ford. He caught it and looked in shock. “WELL WHAT ARE YOU GAWKING FOR, YOUR MOTHER NEEDS YOU, BOY.”

“Yes, I just… thank you.” Ford was up and hurried with his bag following David to the interior door to the attached two-car garage. The Dean flipped on the light and there was a pretty plain station wagon closest to the door. Ford ran around the driver’s side and tried the key to the door but it wouldn’t turn. “Uh, sir. This key isn’t working.” Ford said, panicked that he had broken the keys somehow in the mere minute he had got it.

“THAT IS SCHOOL PROPERTY STANFORD, I CAN’T LET YOU DRIVE OFF WITH IT. I TEACH DRIVER’S EDUCATION DURING THE SUMMERTIME.” That struck Ford as a pretty… terrible idea but if the man was still around he must know something. Ford turned around and saw a covered car. He looked at David who grabbed the end and pulled it free. Now Ford was not a car guy but… well he recognized the brown ‘71 Pontiac LeMans from  _ The French Connection _ . It was not the prettiest of cars but… well it was in a great car chase scene, and though there would be those who would say  _ Bullitt _ was superior; Stanford was an East Coast kid.

“You’re letting me drive this?” Ford asked incredulously at the faith the man had in him.

“I AM SIXTY-FIVE YEARS OLD. I AIN’T GOING TO GET BEHIND THE WHEEL OF THAT MUCH LONGER. SO MIGHT AS WELL SEE IT BE USED FOR SOMETHING IMPORTANT.” Doctor Cole said and then bent down to open up the garage, leaving Ford wishing he had not been looking as he tried to repress those images down. He shuddered and got behind the wheel. He turned on the car and felt it rumble as it started up. He looked at David and flashed a grin as he put his foot to the pedal to accelerate out and get on the road. He drove down the street and saw the older man standing there in his driveway watching him go until he went back inside. Ford was eternally grateful for his help. He also had to give the briefest of considerations for Stanley for letting him encounter such incredible people.

“Alright Ma, I’m on my way.” Ford spoke out loud, he expected he’d be talking to himself a lot to stay awake as he drove. It was a long road, but he wasn’t going to be stopped.


	34. Vexatious

Ford wasn’t sure how many hours he had been on the road. The sun had risen and fallen and risen again. He had stopped for gas and food a couple of times, always making sure he did his best to clean up after himself so he didn’t leave the car a mess. He started to understand his brother’s obsession with his 1965 El Diablo, or what he so cheekily named “The Stanmobile”. It had been a joint gift for the two brothers to share, though Ford was not the best behind the wheel at that time. He did not object when Stanley left with it after being kicked out, all the better to get him away from the house. Though now he started to realize how foolish it had been to not consider having his own transportation. He was nowhere near financially stable enough to get a car just yet, but it would be high on his list of priorities. He felt his eyes drooping and he pressed harder on the gas pedal to get his adrenaline rushing to keep himself awake. He lost track of himself and only glanced to see the needle of the speedometer creeping up to towards 90 mph. He wondered what would happen if he pushed all the way to the floor, but as he did that there came the low  _ whoop whoop  _ of a police siren. “No no no, I should have been focusing on following the law.” Ford chastised himself for his lax in restraint.

He saw the alternating red and blue lights in the rear view, so he took his foot off the gas to start coasting as he slowed down with the brake until he came to a dead stop on the side of the highway somewhere in the middle of the country. He took a second to find the hazard lights and then he had a series of images flash through his mind. He had an image in his head of his mother laying in a hospital bed alone as his father sat passed out in his chair trying to avoid those difficult things called emotions. He had an image of himself sitting in lockup as they tried to get in touch with David Cole back in California. He also had an image of what he was about to do.

As the county deputy leisurely got out of his car, gut overhanging his large belt buckle. He moseyed on up to the side of the car and reached up to knock on the window when he heard the car shift gears and the rattle and plink as the tires spat out dirt and rocks at the front window of his cruiser before they finally caught onto something with friction and shot off like a brown rocket down the highway. He coughed and sputtered as he hoofed it back to the police car and radioed in. “We got a brown ’71 Pontiac with a partial plate of ‘618’ evading a traffic stop on Highway 136! They done cracked my windshield to hell! What we're dealing with here is a complete lack of respect for the law!”

Ford could not believe what he just did; he was out of his damn mind! Yet he had never felt so alive. He was pushed back against the seat from how fast he was tearing down the highway. He didn’t know what he was doing, he was no getaway driver. He wasn’t sure what he was going to have to do next. He pried his foot off of the gas pedal and slowed down to the speed limit as he saw the sign for the state line was not too far away. But he imagined the deputy must have given out an APB, which was the term he remembered from Adam-12. Though he highly doubted he’d have Martin Milner and Kent McCord coming after him. He tried to remain calm and rational, but his heart was still sounding like drumroll. He took the next exit and pulled over atlas to check and see what round about back roads he could take to get into the next state and closer to New Jersey. He just hoped his foolish stunt didn’t eat up more of his time. He really needed to get control of these insane urges of rebelliousness. He had never… well he stopped himself before he even started that lie.

“So you’ve always had a reckless side. That was just bad influence from Stanley. You were pressured into it…” He remembered the numerous ‘adventures’ he and Stanley had gone on as kids: hunting the Jersey Devil, a heist to recover one of the Freak Show’s Snake Lady’s favorite boas, and the time Ford had gotten payback on Crampelter for busting Stanley’s nose. He accomplished that last one by lining a captain’s hat with superglue knowing he’d take it and put it on as Ford worked on the Stan O’ War. The teen had torn his hair out so bad he had a premature bald spot on the top of his head. “Okay… so maybe there are a few occasions in which I took the initiative.” Ford said to no one but himself.

He took some winding back roads hoping he didn’t read the map wrong and find himself in a dead end. Last thing he needed to do was arrive at some abandoned cabin in the woods and run afoul of some moonshiners. Though his experience with McGucket might keep him from too much trouble. He found himself soon crossing over the state line for Indiana, then shortly after he got into Ohio. He eventually hazarded getting back on the highways for the speed of things. He was absolutely running on fumes mentally, though he still had half a tank as he entered the lovely state of New Jersey.

He rolled down the windows and took a deep breath before gagging. “Yep that’s Trenton air.” He mused as he stopped to get some gas and coffee. It was the potent stuff too; only found in truck stops and sporting the characteristics such as the consistency of molasses and the enigmatic taste of burnt. Not anything burnt in particular but just the general descriptor of  **_burnt_ ** . He was pleased to note that there didn’t seem to be a manhunt for him on the news. He was not quite the vexatious criminal he had initially worried himself to be. He made a note to not go back the way he came, he figured he might go down the coast before veering off into Tennessee in the hopes of finding McGucket before taking Interstate 10 across the country to California.

However his travel plans would need to be put on hold as he drove the rest of the way to Glass Shard Beach and straight to the Hospital; it was pre-twilight as he walked through the front and up to the lonely receptionist. “Hello, could you tell me which room a Caryn Pines is in? I am her son.”

“Didn’t I see you earlier today?” The receptionist asked and Ford’s eyes went wide as he did not expect to hear that. “You okay? You look like you seen a ghost.” Ford nodded, though she took it in response to the first question, he actually meant it for the second remark as he recalled a hospital all the way across the country. He was more willing to go deal with those entities again than the one he seemed to have missed.


	35. Absence

Stanford found he was growing quite aggressive towards Hospitals with their sterile air, too wide hallways, and the harsh lighting. It felt like a setting that only a mind in the middle of a dream could construct. He was sure there were nicer ones somewhere in the world but he found his experience was tainted by pain and danger. Having been stuck in a haunted chapel surely did not do any great favors for his opinion being swayed. He rode the creaky elevator up to the second floor, leaning against the wall as his body verged on collapse from exhaustion. He could not remember the last time he had eaten a real meal, though it probably had to have been the diner with Doctor Cole. The ding alerted him to his floor and he walked along following the directions given to him by the receptionist. Room 237 was his goal, or was it 217? He paused and wished he had written it down. His brain had still been focused on the fact that Stanley had been here. How had he known? Did he keep in touch with their mother? Or was he just the better son when it came to caring about family. That was a bitter truth Ford was realizing about himself. He got too wrapped up to think about others in the short term. He wanted to focus on his needs and then he could better provide.

“Uh sir, are you alright?” An equally weary looking nurse was standing there. She had the pillbox hat and a red cardigan over her uniform. Ford offered a smile but stopped as she took a step back.

“I am sorry, I was trying to find my mother’s room. Caryn Pines? I think it was either Room 217 or 237.” Ford explained to the best of his ability. “I’m Stanford Pines, her son.” He realized he repeated information and shook his head.

“Pines. Pines…” She mused in thought. “I don’t think there is anyone with that last name. I think we have a Caryn Romanoff in 217. I’m Lisa by the way. I’d show you the way but I just got off. I hope you don’-.” Ford stopped her with a gesture.

“I understand completely, you have a good rest of your day.” Ford said politely as he internally was panicking. Why was his mother using her maiden name? He wondered if tensions at home had risen even further. He also recalled how sloshed his father had sounded. It was bad news all around. He started down the hall again and found the room, indeed the door said Caryn Romanoff. He hesitated before knocking gently.

“Come in.” A voice called from inside, a familiar voice but one that he could already tell was weaker. He opened the door and walked in to see his mother in a hospital bed. Her hair was down and framed her face; making it seem even gaunter than it already was. He walked over and smiled softly as he waved at her shyly. “Baby!” She said and tears welled in his eyes. He sat down at her side.

“I came as soon as I heard. I called wanting to talk with you when…” Ford braced himself. “Dad answered and told me what happened.” He took her hand into his, wrapping all six fingers supportively.

“How did you get here so quick? Did you fly? I am sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry.” His mother frowned at him concerned.

“I drove, only stopped for something to eat and to occasionally close my eyes. It’s been a little over two days since I heard.” Ford met her dark eyes. “You look good, what happened?”

“You look like crap, Stanford. You pack any luggage to go with those bags?” She teased lightly and touched his cheek. “The doctors say it’s my heart. Nothing major, not yet at least. But it's uh… V somethin’… V Tach! But I might end up with a heart attack if I don’ watch my P’s and Q’s. I don’t want you to worry too much.”

“Ma, this is serious.” Ford shook his head. “You need to change some things. Most notably…” He didn’t have to say anything, however he knew she was defensive about her habit.

“Look I’ve done that since I was thirteen, it is just who I am. And I will keep doing it. I’ve cut back to a pack a day now at least.” Caryn took a firm tone with him. “Drop it.” Ford relented, not wanting to add more stress as he watched her heart monitor spike a little. “Let’s talk about something else, you said you drove here? Did you finally get a car?” She had a note of excitement for his progress.

“No, I was able to borrow a car.” Ford explained with a light laugh. “It is actually a bit of a funny story.” He then spent about an hour talking with her about his meeting and friendship with the dean of the college. He of course sanitized things as much as he could. The toughest was the part when he was being looked at by two police officers for going to another college to graffiti their admin building. He was not as skilled of a liar as Stanley. Which made him recall the receptionist’s reaction to him.

“I am very proud of you, baby. My little man is getting to be so smart and important.” His mother was not patronizing him, she was genuinely happy for his accomplishments. He just felt bad that they were so far from one another. It might have seemed a small absence in the long run but it was felt deeply.

“What did Stanley have to say when he was here?” Ford felt compelled to ask. He winced as it looked as if he had just smacked his mother from the shock in her face and the pain in her eyes.

“How… I had the nurses call him. He was just a little ways over I knew. He’s grown a mustache like your father. So weird.” Ford looked at her as she realized he knew she was trying to avoid the question. “He regretted things… wished he had done it differently and that… you two had gotten sail off together.” Her eyes welled up with tears.

“He’s an idiot… he ruined my chance at a future… a future not limited by what I can scrounge together. Who knows how far I’d be already. I am clawing for progress when I could have been sprinting.” Ford felt his face pull into an angry scowl. He got up and clenched his fists tightly. “If I see him again I am going to break his jaw!” Ford was going to continue when he heard the rapid beeping of his mother’s heart monitor. It was nearly 100 bpm. She was looking frightened at him,  **_of_ ** him. He backed away and looked down ashamed.

“M-maybe you need to geh-get some rest, Stanford.” Caryn said shakily as her heart rate started to slow down, but not too much. Ford nodded and took a step closer to hug her but he thought against it and left. He needed to find a motel or something to stay at. No way was he going to go to the apartment right now. He didn’t need that much pain.


	36. Divide

He wasn’t sure how long he slept on the lumpy mattress in the cheap motel, but it did not feel long enough. He did not know what he was supposed to do with his situation. He had alienated himself from his mother, but he did not wish to pick a side on his parent’s marital troubles. He honestly wondered if making the journey was worth the trials and tribulations. He realized how awful that made him sound. He resolved himself to get a shower and cleaned up before going back to the hospital to apologize. He hoped that his mother would forgive him, but he had a nagging worry that she would not. He did not quite understand, wondering why she continued to defend Stanley after everything he had done to their family. He wished he had not blown up like he had, he chalked up her reaction to the stress on her already. He found her room and knocked on the door, he did not hear anything and waited for a moment before knocking again. His chest had a chill form as he opened the door and looked around. He did not see his mother in bed and fear began to run around like a rat; gnawing at wiring where it could find it.

“Ma?” Ford’s voice was shaky as he tried to see if her belongings were still in the cupboard they had in the room. “MA?!” His voice went louder and more brittle as he found her purse and some clothes hanging from wire hangers. He jumped when behind another door he heard the flush of a toilet. He listened for the running water of a sink and his mother came out.

“Sorry, hon. I was making a deposit.” She said wryly and Ford wanted to groan in disbelief of her joke. However he went to her side and stood there to catch her as he saw her legs were still not the steadiest. “Stanford, I’m not an old woman yet. Jeez-Louise.”

“Why didn’t you have a nurse come help you get in there?” Ford was being a worry-wart he knew but she was his mother damn it.

“It’s embarrassing, it’s why I didn’t answer you. I didn’t expect you to be up and about yet. You were tired and cranky.” Caryn said, giving him an out for his behavior, one which he was not going to take.

“No, I was being an ass about things, and I wanted to apologize for causing you grief, Mom.” Ford got her seated on bed and helped her get her legs up and covered with a blanket again. He noticed they had taken the leads reading her heart rate. “They talking about releasing you soon?” Ford wondered.

“Yeah, and I spoke with your father. He and I… are going to work on some things. He could do with some changing of habits as well.” His mother did not want to make him fret over her but he did not care.

“What happened?” Ford asked pointedly, and as he saw her start to close off he pressed. “Did he hurt you?”

“No! He would never. He just… he’s gotten so bitter. I thought maybe having the place to ourselves finally might make him relax but business has not been great so he is frustrated with that.” Caryn buried her face in her hands. “I just want to see the man I fell in love with again, and I know he is in there, but there’s just something nagging him and I don’t know what it is.” Ford was surprised but he understood the feeling his father must be feeling. He had an idea of what it was but he would not say it out loud, but it rhymes with ‘Spamley’.

“I know he will calm down, business will pick back up and you two will go out dancing again.” Ford smiled and his mother laughed.

“Yeah that’ll be the day. Maybe we’ll dance at your wedding.” She said, not really seeing the wince Ford had. He did not know if he should open up to her about the things he had felt for Fiddleford. He knew she loved him, but… that was a bit too much of a test. “Oh, have you talked to your friend, the Dean? I am sure he’d like to know you made it safely.”

“Oh shit! I forgot, yeah I’ll be right back. Do you have any quarters?” Ford asked and his mother pointed to her purse. He always felt weird digging through her handbags, but he found her coin purse and he went down to the lobby where the phones were. He did not have the number for David’s house so he figured calling the admin building of the university might get him in touch with his secretary. The phone rang and rang until finally being picked up. He frowned as he heard sniffling.

“Hello? Administration for Backupsmore University, I’m afraid we won’t be taking any appointments at this time...” It was Dotty, and she sounded on the verge of tears.

“This is Stanford Pines, I was hoping to speak with David… Doctor Cole I mean.” Ford swallowed a lump in his throat. “Dotty, is something wrong?”

“Pines?” There was a pause as she took a moment to recall. “David’s protégé! I… don’t you know what happened?” She sounded confused.

“No, I am on the East coast right now, I had a family emergency and I was hoping to get in touch with David and thank him for his help.” Ford felt like the ground was growing unsteady under his feet.

“Oh… I am sorry Stanford, but he passed away. We just found out about it today. I had a wellness check done on him when he came in.” Her voice trembled. “He-.” Ford did not hear what she said as once again, so soon after hearing some dire news, the phone fell from his fingers as he felt as if the very earth he stood on somehow had a new divide created under his feet. He sat down; his face bloodless as his eyes fought whether they wanted to shed tears or not. He heard her voice so far off but he did not pick up the handset to answer her or even hang up. He just got to his feet and marched back up to his mother’s room. She immediately saw his face and threw back the covers.

“Stanford, baby are you okay?” She moved to him and let out a gasp as he sat down suddenly against the wall. “Talk to me, you are scaring me!” She said with some panic in her voice. Ford looked at her and his vision blurred with tears.

“David died, they just found out today. I… I lost my friend.” He broke down and closed his eyes. His mother took off his glasses and pulled his head against her chest like he was a little kid again. She ran her fingers through his hair, parting the thick brown waves. He listened as she took a deep breath and sang as best as she could in her native New Jersey accent.

“We'll meet again. Don't know where, don't know when. But I know we'll meet again some sunny day. Keep smiling through, just like you always do. 'Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.” Caryn tried to comfort him through his loss. It was difficult for him to grasp how someone so full of energy and life, despite his age, was suddenly gone. He was certain that he needed to find and talk to McGucket, just to know that he was safe. He could not bear to lose him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am once again stepping away from this story for the time being. I have ideas for it but I do not wish to run the story into the ground. It will remain in progress and it will become a side project while I write.


End file.
